


Don't Bite the Tip

by schumie



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10033136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schumie/pseuds/schumie
Summary: Midorima is a fairly young vampire living with the even younger vampire Kise and the dearly departed ghost, Kuroko. Midorima is very careful to keep his...state of being...under wraps, but the control he has is soon lost when a starving vampire faints outside his house.





	1. Getting A Head of Themselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsinew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsinew/gifts).



“This sucks,” the man lounging in the window seat whined.

“Kise, we don’t use that word in this house.”

“Okaaaay. I won’t say the S-word anymore. I’m just soooo--”

“Bored?”

“Yeah,” Kise’s head drooped, thunking against the window pane dully.

“It was shocking up until the twenty-sixth time you told me,” Midorima slowly turned a page in his book, craning to see in the light of the desk lamp. Certain things he had been blessed with hyper-intense levels of, but eyesight was still not one of them.

“You’ve gotten meaner, you know. And sassier. Since you became a vampire,” Kise sighed and managed to make it sound like a whine.

Midorima closed the book shut with a snap but didn’t move from his position. His glasses glinted in the dull lamp light. “Do you really wish to bring up that topic?” 

“Noooo...,” Kise trailed off, gazing out the window in a way that Midorima knew Kise was hoping looked wistful. There was another sigh and dull thunk of a beautiful forehead against glass. Then something like an inhale as Kise perked up. “Hey, Midorimacchi, do we still have any of that Kobe beef?”

“You ate it all. Even the one labeled as mine,” Midorima prickled, opening his book again.

“Oops. What about the Matsusaka beef?”

“You ate that too.”

“Is there any AB in the--”

“Kise Ryouta,” Midorima snapped, this time closing his book and turning to look at the other, eyes flashing like a cat’s--yellow and green--in the dark. “You’re enough of a leach as it is. I allow you to stay in this house--”

“It’s my house--”

“It was your house. Until I purchased it from you because you were broke and about to declare bankruptcy.”

“It takes a lot of money to entertain yourself for a hundred years,” Kise pouted. “All the sex, booze, d--”

“Kise. If you have time to eat my food, stay in my house, and blabber incessantly about your boredom, you have time to go out and actually provide for yourself. For once.”

Kise’s eyebrows lifted in the center and he gave the palest, most undead puppydog look he could muster. Midorima was entirely unaffected.

“You know I don’t like to go out during the day. I have light eyes! I’m extra sensitive to the sun! And you know I need my beauty rest.”

“Then you could work nightshifts.”

“What, and ruin the only time I have awake?”

“You’re correct. Sitting at a window and complaining is a far better use of your conscious hours.”

“Fine,” Kise huffed. He stood up quickly and purposely, picking up his jacket from the window seat and throwing it dramatically over his shoulder. It was wasted, Midorima had already turned back to his book. “I’m going hunting.”

“Hn,” Midorima acknowledged. “No humans,” he said distractedly.

“Yes, yes” Kise mouthed, slamming the door of the room as he left. Midorima turned the page.

Kise tended to only eat from what he enjoyed, and he tended to enjoy it in other ways too. Midorima did not care to know any more specifics than he already did--he was satisfied with the one thing he did know--he would have a few blessed hours of peace with Kise out of the house. If vampires were leeches, stealing sustenance and life from others, Kise was a quintessential vampire. No one knew how to drain resources, and good will, like Kise. 

Midorima put down his book, took out his pen and notebook, and settled down for a night of writing. Hopefully he could be productive.

“MIDORIMACCHI” the door of the room slammed open, and Midorima nearly spilled his tea all over his manuscript. Midorima’s chair screeched back as he moved to, hopefully, strangle every last bit of undead breath from Kise’s body. He would strangle him, then shove garlic down his throat so far that Kise would never be able to--

“Woah, woah! Wait!”

Midorima advanced, not noticing that he had snapped his pen in half. Kise backed out through the doorway, hands up.

“Midorimacchi! No, wait! There’s a person outside!” Kise all but screeched.

Midorima wasn’t fazed. Kise began to panic. “Outside our house!” he added.

Midorima stopped two feet away from Kise’s nose, which he had planned to break--before the strangling of course.

“...Repeat what you just said,” Midorima pushed up his glasses. A trickle of blood ran down his hand from where he still held a jagged half of pen.

“A guy. A human man. Outside the gate. I--I think he might be dead, Kise whispered, as if he himself weren’t already.

Midorima took a deep breath in and exhaled heavily. He pushed up his glasses. He moved past Kise, who jumped out of his way.

“Stay here.”

“But, what--”

“What the house--my house-- or whatever it is you do. I’ll be back once I ascertain the situation.”

“Midorimacchi, if he is dead, and he’s in front of our house--”

“My house.”

“--then we’re totally screw--”

“You think I don’t know what that would mean? Calm yourself,” Midorima said spitefully, slamming the attic door behind him. He felt no guilt over still being bitter about his Matsusaka beef.

Midorima made his way down to the first floor of the notably large estate and put on a heavy jacket near the door. Not that he needed it, but if he were spotted walking out in two-foot deep snow in a button-up, the neighbors might gossip. Gossip was more dangerous to vampires than stakes or garlic. Gossip meant being watched. Being watched meant someone would eventually put two and two together and blood-consumer. Aware neighbors meant aware neighborhoods and aware neighborhoods led to lynch mobs. At least that was what literature told him, and he had little else to rely on, given that his….transformant was never present. Midorima was only as resentful as the situation called for.

He opened up the large door of the Taisho-era mansion and stepped out into the crunchy floof of snowdrift. Midorima pulled the hood down over his eyes to shield  them from the small gusts of swirling snow. Even vampires couldn’t see in snow flurries.

Midorima crunch-poofed his way down what was normally the brick walkway, towards the iron front gate. As he got closer, he began to see vague outlines of what must have been Kise’s long, pointed boot prints. They stopped suddenly, crossing and backtracking in a snowy hole. Midorima looked up from the prints and saw what Kise must have seen.

Outside the gate, leaning against the left post, was a very human-shaped figure wearing a large jacket, the hood covering the head of the slumped form. Midorima peered at the grey shape, squinting through the melted drops of snow on his glasses. He sighed. He opened the gate, having to use some of his notable strength to move it through all of the snow and ignored the pile he made as he did. Kise could shovel it.

Midorima walked over and stood in front of the figure awkwardly.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. The silence that comes with snow deadened the sound immediately. “Ahem,” he ahem’d more demandinly. The figure made no show of movement or even hint that it was alive. Fantastic.

“Excuse me…” Midorima wasn’t sure of the gender of the heavily parka-d figure. “You see to have fallen asleep in my...snow. In front of my gate, I mean,” Midorima pushed up his glasses, causing a warm fingerprint to be left behind on the right lense. He nearly swore. “Excuse me? Are you conscious?”

A small pile of snow slid off the figure’s shoulder. Midorima sighed heavily. He squatted down in front of the figure, peering at it. He could see the tip of a very pale nose and the traces of a mouth in the shadow of the hood. 

“I’m going to take your pulse,” Midorima announced, just in case the person was a maniac and attempted to knife or stake him in the process.

Midorima reached out, digging slightly under the color of the jacket to find a vein in the neck.

Then froze.

Midorima stood up. He could smell it now, feint. A smell he knew too well. Midorima leaned forward and flung the hood back, as if it were a hot iron. The head of the person lolled back with the hood and made a dull thunk sound against the iron bars.  
Midorima did not know the man.

Before him was a pale, black-haired young man with high eyebrows and a long, pointed nose. And--it couldn’t be--but it seemed almost as if there was a faint smile on his lips.

Midorima stepped back, looking at the figure. Now that he knew it was there, the scent was strong. It was carried on the snow to him. Midorima stared at the figure, willing it to wake up and walk away.

The man let out a small, low groan and his head lolled again, banging against the bars as Midorima ran through his options. He looked at the man’s pale, pale skin. He was smaller than Midorima, but Midorima could tell his heavy coat hid an athletic body. Midorima ran through scenarios in which he would have to fight or overtake the man. In all of them, he had the upper hand.

The man groaned again, lightly, and let out a large puff of air that showed in a cloud--a testament to how cold outside it was if the breath of a vampire could cause fog. Midorima stared down at the figure and its worn boots. He rubbed the bridge of his nose where the frame of his glasses were starting to give him a headache from the cold.

 

“Well, suck me,” Kise gaped.

“Kise.”

“Sorry. I mean, holy crap. He’s...he’s not dead. I mean, he is but he’s--”

“Yes. A vampire. Like you. But I don’t see him losing all his composure.”

“That’s not fair, Midorimacchi. He’s not even awake,” Kise leaned over the unconscious man, peering into his face. “He looks really bad… kinda purple-y.”

“He needs blood. He probably went too long without it.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“If someone hadn’t eaten all of the beef and drank all our blood store, we could have given him some of that.”

“Um,” Kise defended courageously. “Anyway. Hey, why don’t you give him some of yours. That works right? Blood is blood.”

Midorima gave Kise a look he hoped would kill Kise and curse any of his living realitives. “No. We don’t know if that works. And I'm not donating my blood to a stranger. Who knows what diseases he may carry.”

“But that’s how we were made and--”

“Making a vampire and feeding one are very different things. You were going hunting anyway. Bring something back for him,” Midorima more than suggested.

“You know I don't bring back rats or whatever like you do, and I'm not leaving anyway. What if he’s….rabid or something?! I can’t leave you alone with him!”

“Kise, you’re an idiot.”

“I'm serious. You said yourself he's a complete stranger. He might be an original. Or really old. He might be super powerful and rabid and you wouldn't be able to stand up against him and--”

“Kise. Would an experienced vampire starve himself to the brink of end death like this?”

“Well, one time I--”

“You have literally been a vampire for four years. And you're an idiot,” Midorima pointed out helpfully.

Kise pouted and crossed his arms. His fine lips curved down and one fang stuck out so he looked snaggletoothed. It was his vampire equivalent of a puppy dog look and Midorima was repulsed.

“Fine, if you must insist on staying here, at least go fetch Kuroko. He may actually be of some use.”

“Oh! That's a good idea!”

Kise, despite his lack of middrift-covering clothing, still managed to make a huge affair of exiting the room in a flurry of fabric.

Midorima sighed, staring after him then back to the prone figure laying on the sofa. The man was looking rather lavender... Midorima pulled the chair away from the desk and sat down, across the room from the pale man. He waited two minutes. Then five. It hit ten minutes and he still didn't hear a sign of Kise returning. Midorima stared at the man. The man had medium eyelashes, but his eyes were set at a slant that Midorima guessed might be foxish when he was awake. Midorima trusted him even less.

Midorima thought he heard a dull scream echo from somewhere in the house. Kise had found Kuroko, finally. Kuroko could hopefully shed some light on--

The periwinkle undead corpse on the couch moved. First a finger twitched, then feet flexed. Then it groaned a very tired, very pained groan. Midorima suddenly wished Kise was there. The man was obviously not an original, but he may have training or fighting experience while Midorima had none. Midorima moved closer, so he could attack first if need be, but kept far away enough that he was out of immediate reach.

“Ugh...this is worse than that hangover I had after David Hasselhoff's pool party,” a raspy voice croaked. “Man I miss hangovers... oh.” the man's eyes had widened enough and turned to land on Midorima groggily. “Well hello there. You're gorgeous, aren't ya?” 

Midorima inched closer cautiously as the man rubbed his eyes then peered at Midorima again.

“Holy—gauff,” the man coughed and it seemed to echo through his whole body with brutal force. When it stopped, he cracked a grey-blue eye open to peer at Midorima again. “--I must be in the best ring of hell. Please tell me you're going to whip me. Or I get to whip you. Either way is cool. If you stare at me with those peepers, I might even be okay with letting you put the whip--”

“A-HEM.”

“....Not hell then?”

“Ineed not. Here is my offer. Listen well: if you wait here and don't move and don't touch anything, I can get you a few rats to replenish yourself with, and then you can be on your way.” Midorima pushed up his glasses.

“Rats? Nevermind, hell it is.”

“Oh, so you're also of the type that prefers to feed upon unsuspecting humans, like a leech,” Midorima bit out. All the other vampires he had met had also had that preference, but Midorima still didn't approve of it.

“Woah, there. I mean, I'm not. I prefer cats, but way to be judgemental.”

“Cats,” Midorima spat out. “Vile creatures.” After one occasion where Midorima had received a particularly bad mauling, Midorima had turned from cats to smaller vermin, like squirrels and, as much as it disgusted him, pigeons. Rats were much cleaner creatures, so he preferred them when possible, but beggars could only be so choosy.

“Look, I'm not really in a position to nitpick my food...at the moment, and I'm absolutely starving... Literally, I think. I've been feeling...weak lately, but this is something on a whole different level”.

Midorima remembered Kise.

“...You'll have to wait. My housemate depleated our stock of blood.” Midorima stared at the man. He did seem to be wilting before him. He'd gone from a purpleish hue to a gunmetal grey one in the matter of one sentence. “I'll--send him to get you something,” Midorima stuttered.

“Mm,” The man's eyes had begun to flutter. It was then that Kise burst into the room. 

“Midorimacchi! Sorry, it took forever for me to find Kurokocchi!”

“I was right behind him the whole time,” Kuroko's deadpan voice noted as he floated through the door behind Kise. “What do you need from me, Midorima-kun? I think I have about fifteen more minutes before I have to go back to the library. Kise-kun took a long time taking me here,” Kuroko eyed the book Kise was holding blankly but obviously in an accusing manner.”

“It's not my fault! You kept disappearing! I was worried,” Kise put the book gingerly on the desk, on top of what Midorima had been writing.

“Kise,” Midorima cut in. “Go find this man some blood since you decided to drain our entire stock last night.” Kise whined but Midorima ignored him. “Kuroko, I called you because the man hadn't gained consciousness yet--”

“Right here,” the man said groggily from the couch. “Got a name too. A hot one.”

“--but he has woken up. However,” Midorima gestured to the man's entire prone being.

“I see,” Kuroko floated over to Takao. “Please excuse me,” he said. “Would you open your eyes and follow my finger? Okay. Now...Open your mouth wide, please.”

The man obliged, a bit disbelievingly. “Never seen....a ghost....'fore”.

“I've never seen a dying vampire. Midorima-kun, come here and take his pulse for me, would you?”

“I want him out of my house as soon as this is done.”

“'M dying?”

There was a pause as everyone (even Kise) was quiet, as if Midorima would be able to hear the man's heartbeat through his pale wrist. Midorima tried to to feel how oddly clammy the man's wrist was in his hand. Vampires didn't sweat like regular, living humans. The fact that they had a pulse at all was strange, but considering they survived on blood, not completely surprising. Midorima glanced at the hand, feeling the half-closed eyes of the man rest on him. The man had strong forearms. They were lean, but obviously all muscle. Perhaps he had been a sportsman when he had been living. “It's very weak. It's difficult to tell, maybe 50/30” he announced to Kuroko, dropping the man's wrist.

“I don't think you can die of starvation,” Kuroko answered the look on the man's face, “ at least, not from the research I've done, but you can get very, very weak. Go into a hybernation of sorts.”

“..I love sleep...” the man mumbled, his eyes closing more, “Sex is good too. But sleep...sleep sex...”

“He isn't hybernating yet, which means he can still leave the house,” Midorima pointed out.

“Midorima-kun, he needs blood. A lot. If he leaves the house, he won't make it past the front gate and you'll be back where you started.”

Kise, who had been oddly quiet, piped up. “Hey, I think I know him. He looks really familiar.”

“How on Earth would you know him and not remember,” Midorima chided.

“I don't know but he really does look familiar.”

“What's your name,” Kuroko asked politely. Everyone quieted again as they realized at the same time that they hadn't bothered to ask the man's name.

“Takao...” the man answered sleepily. “Kazu...nari. Takao.”

“Huh. Don't recognize it,” Kise raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, Takao-kun, wait right here. Midorima-kun is going to give you some blood while Kise goes out to get more--”

“I most definitely am not!”

“--or he'll likely have a very large mess on his couch,” Kuroko finished, leveling a blank gaze at Midorima. Midorima frowned. Kuroko turned to Kise. “Kise-kun, please go woo some people into giving you blood and bring back at least two meals' worth for Takao.” Kise began to protest but Kuroko added, “We're counting on you because we know you can be charming...(to some people),” and Kise began to shine with misplaced pride.

“I'd rather you not lump me into that opinion,” Midorima sighed, “but yes, Kise, go get blood. And maybe buy a decent shirt that isn't ruffles or lace-up on your way back. You're too obvious.”

“This wasn't Vampire fashion, I was making a tribute to The Artist Formerly Known as Prince today!”

“Whatever. Go. Now.”

“We're counting on you, Kise-kun,” Kuroko added blankly. It worked. Kise nearly drifted out of the room, he seemed so elated, and his head was so full of air.

Midorima waited while Kuroko busied himself around Takao and watched from the window as Kise's leopard-coat-baring form crunched across the snow.

“Midorima-kun,” I'm going to go back to the library and see if I can find more information on how to help our guest. Give him some of your blood to keep him conscious in the meantime and call for me if something bad happens. Like convulsions.”

“Don't wanna conversations,” Takao muttered.

“There's no threat of that with Midorima-kun,” Kuroko reassured him.

“I can't give him my blood. We don't know if there will be any side effects.”

“As far as what I can tell from what I read, the side effect will be that you have less blood.”

“Vampire blood isn't human blood. What if it goes through a molecular restructuring when it enters vampire systems? It may poison him. And what if he passes something on to me?”

“Well, he's going to die either way if you don't” Kuroko turned to Takao. “No offense.”

“Nnn taken.”

“And I've never heard of diseases transfering between vampires,” Kuroko turned again to Takao. “No offense.”

“S'okay, 'm not exactly a monk.” Then, “Hey...I...can't see very well anymore.”

“Midorima-kun,” Kuroko urged.

“He just as good as confessed he is sexually promiscuous! You expect me to--”

“Yes. I expect you to help a fellow vampire in need. One of the very, very few fellow vampires,” Kuroko slightly raised an eyebrow. “As someone who planned to be a doctor, I'd think you would be more than willing. Now, I'm going to the library. Look, he's fainted.”

Indeed, the vampire named Takao had passed out rather ungracefully on their good green suede couch. One of the arms he had supposedly been ready to gesture with had fallen, landing across his face unceremoniously. Something like a gagging snore escaped from under it. Midorima turned to argue but Kuroko was already gone leaving only a slightly chilly draft.

Midorima turned back to the prone form on the couch. One leg was splayed over the top of the opposite armrest and one was draped down to the ground, as if he had tried to get up at one point. Midorima hadn't noticed. He walked purposefully over to the couch and, with probably a little too much force, flung the arm that was draped across Takao's face away. Immediately Takao's eyelids fluttered but they didn't open.

“You,” Midorima said.

There was no response.

“You, desecrating my couch,” Midorima specified.

Nothing.

“Takao Kazunari, pathetic vampire sullying my couch with your muddy, snowy shoes, open your eyes,” Midorima demanded.

Eyes fluttered and Takao gained enough consciousness to reply, “Whuu?”

Midorima unbuttoned one shirt cuff and held his hand out to the man, “Drink. But if you try to drink too much, I'll kill you.”

Takao stared, hazily disbelieving, and took the hand offered gently into his. Or perhaps he was just that weakened. Takao's large hand was cold. Freezing, even, as he pushed Midorima's sleeve up farther, scrunching it.

“Not from the wrist, you idiot,” Midorima pushed up his glasses violently. “From the fingers. You can get enough from them. I don't want to walk around with a gash in my arm and dirty all my shirtsleeves.”

Takao seemed to gain enough consciousness to look amused before he fell onto Midorima's fingertips, spreading Midorima's palm out so he could get at the veins in Midorima's thumb.

Midorima flinched only slightly as sharp teeth punctured his skin. Quickly, with the decoagulant and the numbing effect vampires had, the pain faded, leaving only the sensation of Takao pulling blood from Midorima's finger, using his tongue and cheeks to coerce a steady stream out.

Midorima felt...almost dizzy. He felt hazy. What would he do if too much blood was taken? No, it hadn't even been a minute yet, and Takao was drinking from his finger. But a strange warmth began to spread through Midorima's hands. It tickled in the spaces between his fingers, causing the hairs on his arm to stand up on end. The warmth seemed to spread up his arm, to his elbow, and Midorima could feel warmth on the skin there, as if lips were pressed to the inside. He shivered. 

Takao pulled away for only a second to breathe and Midorima felt all the warmth seem to rush back into his hand, only to shoot out and up into his chest when Takao took his whole index finger into his mouth and bit the base, opening the largest vein. Midorima's knees felt weak. He was shaking mildly. Was this what human victims felt like? For once, Midorima began to understand why Kise was able to manipulate so many people into giving him blood. If it felt like this then....

The warmth stopped almost immediately as Takao's head fell away from Midorima's hand and promptly lost consciousness.. Midorima stared at the man on the couch who had just taken some of his life essence. Indeed, the color in Takao's face had seemed to improve slightly. It would have to be enough until Kise returned. If he had known better, Midorima would almost say the Takao had a small smile on his face. Midorima felt annoyed. 

Not wishing to be too near a sleeping predator, but not stupid enough to leave one alone in his house, Midorima pulled his desk chair around to the other side so that Takao was in his line of sight while he could continue his work.

Dr. Tamai's demanding voice rang out. 'Let's transfer him. On my count—1, 2... Midorima's pen stopped. He glanced up at the couch. Perhaps it was his imagination but Takao had seemed to lose some of the color he'd regained. He hadn't actually taken much blood from Midorima, if he was being honest. Maybe a litre. That probably wasn't enough, but surely enough to keep him from the edge of eternal hybernation or...whatever happened to vampires that starved. 

Takao stirred and suddenly Midorima felt very, very cold. He looked closer and could see that Takao was shivering. Kuroko was nowhere to be seen, so it couldn't be blamed on a ghostly presence. Exasperatedly, Midorima got up and took the throw blanket from the window perch Kise had been sitting in and placed it quickly over Takao, thinking only that he better not receive any more trouble from the man than he already had.

“He's sleeping?”

Midorima jumped nearly out of his chair.

“Kuroko.”

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. He looks a bit better but he's still looking pretty haggard, isn't he? How much did he drink?”

“Enough,” Midorima lied.

“Hmm. I'd give him mine but...” Kuroko shrugged and floated.

“We have no idea who this man is,” Midorima pointed out. “He's definitely not one of Hanamiya's. I would be able to smell the stench on him.”

“Mm-hm. I've never seen or heard of him before,” Kuroko agreed. “Maybe he's a traveler?”

“How many...do you think there are in Japan?”

“If they're as bad at keeping quiet as Hanamiya's gang....not many. If they're like you, who knows? Could be hundreds in the Kansai area.”

Midorima almost shuddered but stopped himself. The idea of hundreds of people being fed on every night, the blood diseases that could be passed around between human victims if vampires were carriers...it was a medical nightmare.

Both of them turned to look at Takao at the same time. They sat in silence. Midorima could always count on Kuroko to not talk to much. The complete oposite of Kise.

“Where is Kise? Can't he just grab the first three girls he runs across?”

“I don't think Kise-kun is that unfeeling. He probably woos them first.”

“Or he just likes the attention they give him.”

“Mm,” Kuroko agreed. He had pulled a book out of...somewhere...and was floating, one leg crossed over the other, flipping a page. “Nothing to do but wait. You could give him more blood if you're that worried.”

Midorima thought about how Takao had latched onto his fingers. He pushed up his glasses, blushing slightly. “I'm not worried.” He got up and strutted past Kuroko, reaching a corner shelf. He pulled out a medical kit and procurred medical tape from it. He began wrapping his fingers with the tape, to hammer in the point that he was not donating any more blood to a total stranger. It was probably his imagination, but he thought he heard Kuroko stifle a laugh. He looked over, fingers wrapped, but Kuroko was totally absorbed in the novel with a rather chainy and leathery cover illustration of a long-haired man.

“What are you reading,” Midorima asked warily. The time before, it had been a philosophy book that Kuroko had explained so horridly, Midorima's hatred of the subject had reached rock bottom.

“The Vampire Lestat. It's Anne Rice.”

“You're reading vampire pulp?”

“Well, she got the hybernation thing right. Not sure about the rest. According to her, undead can die if they drink blood from a dead person. You're undead--”

“Second life. We're vampires, not zombies,” Midorima huffed.

“....and Takao is still...second living...so that theory is misproved since he's still...second living...”

“Wait, are you saying that you let him drink my blood blood with the odds being in favor of him dying?”

“Like I said, he would die either way. Or hybernate. Same thing,” Kuroko shrugged.

“Kurokocchi is so practical,” a chipper voice rang out and both turned to look at Kise in his lacey top and tight pants in the doorway. Kise was holding up two thermoses. “Anyone order some blood?”

“How on Earth did you return so fast,” Midorima scowled.

“Kise-kun is always fast,” Kuroko noted offhand.

“Thanks, Kurokocchi! I—wait....”

“Just bring the blood here,” Midorima ordered.

Kise sulked over, handing the thermoses over to Midorima. They were still warm from the contents. There were a few fresh splashes of red on the side that Midorima quickly whiped off with a tissue. “I was all set for a fun night, you know. Ready to buy drinks and woo the beauties, but when I was on my way I ran into a fresh car wreck, so I just borrowed some of the blood that was already spilling out. How lucky was that?”

Midorima made a distinctly disgusted face and mumured something lthat may have been 'vulture' or 'ambulence chaser', it was hard to tell.

“Oh, but don't worry, Kurokocchi! I stopped their bleeding afterward! They didn't die.”

“Kise-kun, that's insulting.”

“I-I'm sorry, Kurokocchi! I didn't mean being a ghost is bad! You're an awesome ghost! The best ghost! The coolest, most hottest ghost!”

“A pretty poltergeist. A handsome haunter,” a voice murmured from the couch and everyone turned to look as Takao's eyes cracked open. “Think I could get some of that blood? A bit thirsty here.”

“He's alive!” Kise unnecessarily exclaimed.

“Of course he is,” Midorima snapped, offended. “I gave him my blood.”

“Pretty stingy with it too,” Takao rasped. “So...” he eyed the thermoses.

Midorima sighed and stood next to the couch, unscrewing the lid of one of the thermoses and holding it out to Takao.

Takao attempted to push himself up but succeeded only in looking like a cut-in-half worm. “Ummm...could I get a bit of help?”

“Midorima-kun, help him,” Kuroko ordered without even looking up. He was back to his leather-clad vampires.

“If I must,” Midorima sighed, pushing up his glasses. He put the thermos down and, as if handling a trash bag full of month-old leftovers, swooped Takao up into a sitting position in a flash and thrust the thermos back at him. He was about to retreat when Takao's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

Takao stared at the thermos. “You know, I think I'm too weak to drink this by myself. How about you administer it mouth to mouth, handsome.”

Midorima gaped. Kise let out an unearthly shriek of delighted shock, and Kuroko slightly tore the page he was turning.

“How—I--you---dare you--” Midorima's righteous indignity was filling the entire room.

“No? Maybe next time then. Could I get a straw though?”

“I like this guy,” Kise nodded, grinning.

“Mm,” Kuroko echoed blandly, placing a piece of tape gingerly on the torn page.

Midorima snatched his hand away from Takao, who was looking paler by the second, pushed up his glasses, stormed over to his desk, picked up his notebook and feather-tipped fountain pen, then stormed out the room.

“I think he likes me,” Takao laughed roughly, then to Kise and Kuroko, “but seriously, could I get that straw?”


	2. The Carrot and the Stiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takao settles right in and makes himself at home in more than one way.

Midorima Shintarou, vampire, lay in bed, confused. He had woken up with a strong, tingling urge to cry in the back of his throat. Two minutes later he had felt inexplicable, indignant rage. Midorima threw the door to the 17th century French armoire open with annoyance. He stepped out and peaked behind the window curtain. It looked to be about 6pm and the sun was setting. It hurt his eyes, magnified through his glasses. Midorima's sense of smell, hearing, and strength had amplified since he became a vampire, but, being far-sighted, his poor eyesight, magnified, had just become exceptionally poor.

 

Midorima felt an unfounded need to laugh.

 

Midorima had no idea what was happening. He rarely felt strong emotions aside from annoyance. Whatever it was, it was probably somehow Kise's fault. Warm comforting annoyance settled in, taking place of the urge to giggle. Midorima threw his sleeping cap back inside the armoire and pulled on a robe, marching downstairs in his orange slippers.

 

“Kise! What have you—why are _you_ still here?”

 

Midorima had marched into the living room where he had heard the sounds of the television, only to find a very second living, very not starving Takao Kazunari, uknown vampire.

 

“Oh, good morning Sleeping Beauty. I helped myself to the Poptarts in the kitchen. Hope that's cool.”

 

“I don't—you can eat normal food?”

 

“What do you mean? Of course I can, I just don't get any actual nutrition from it or whatever. Still tastes good. Why do you have them if you don't eat them?”

 

Midorima didn't actually know. But that wasn't the point. He was feeling a strange sort of amusement. Almost...giddyness. He looked at Takao, who was grinning at him. Behind him, on TV, a man in a suit was handing a rose to a very orange woman with a lot of pomp and circumstance.

 

“What are you watching?”

 

“Oh, just Score A Single reruns. This season was total bullshit. He should have picked Roman Candel. She was the realeast. I almost cried when she went home.”

 

Midorima frowned.

 

“Anyway, I heard you live here with Kise--”

 

“It's _my_ house.”

 

“\--so thanks for letting me stay. Really appreciate it. And the blood you donated last night. It wasfor a good cause, promise.”

 

“I wonder.”

 

“I don't know you well yet but you seem annoyed.”

 

“I'm merely wondering why you are still present in this house.”

 

“Oh, Kise said I could crash here until I get myself together.”

 

Of course it was Kise's fault.

 

Midorima looked at the couch. On it was thrown a blanket, two pillows on one end (in disarray), a box of Poptarts (torn open), and a carton of tomato juice (open with a bit spilling down the side). He looked back to Takao, munching a Poptart in a teeshirt and cherry-patterned boxers. There was absolutely nothing that hinted that Takao had made any effort to become 'together'.

 

“Well, I didn't say so. And I'm the owner of this house.”

 

“Oh. ...Can I stay here? Please?”

 

“No. You are healthy now.” Midorima pushed up his glasses and felt the urge to smirk tugging like an itch. “I revoke your invitation into this household,” he pronounced

 

“Won't work.”

 

Both Midorima and Takao jumped as Kuroko appeared through the floor, brushing crumbs aside and settling on the couch.

 

“I said he could stay too. And I was an owner before both of you, and I'm still here, so I think it trumps both your and Kise's invitations, or lack thereof.” Kuroko stared at the remote control.

 

“But that—I–“ Midorima stuttered. 

 

“Morning, Kuroko,” Takao chirped.

 

“Good morning. I see you've....settled in, Takao-kun.”

 

“Your house is great! A little cold, but super comfy.”

 

“Midorima-kun is 'efficient' with heating. Not that it matters to me.”

 

“Someone has to be econimcally conscience in this household. If it were up to Kise, we would all be wearing pleather and designer shoes and be homeless.”cxd

 

“Anyway. You're welcome to stay here until you know you're out of the woods,” Kuroko said, staring at the remote he was holding even more blankly. 

 

“You okay there, dude?” Takao siddled up next to Kuroko.

 

“I can't press the buttons. I want to watch the documentary on Huskie puppies.”

 

“Ohh! Huskies! I'll get it for you.”

 

“This is ridiculous,” Midorima snorted. “And what do you mean by 'out of the woods'? Are we harboring a criminal? Is this man—this vampire—a fugitive?! I wil lhave no fugitives in my house!”

 

“He's hiding from his crazy maker,” Kise yawned, entering the room in his golden satin robe, open to display his six pack and black silk boxers.

 

Takao whistled. Kuroko raised an eyebrow, then turned back to romping puppies on the TV screen. Midorima felt annoyance well up. “Why am I the only one that doesn't know who this stranger is on our couch and why he's here,” Midorima snapped.

 

“'Cuz you went to bed early. You always do. You snooze, you lose,” Kise grinned, leaving the room.

 

Midorima felt the annoyance boiling.

 

“Woah,” Takao interrupted him. “What's going on.”

 

Both Kuroko and Midorima turned to look at him. He looked confused. “No, it's just like---this is gonna sound crazy, but I just felt really, really  _pissy_ all of a sudden, for no reason.”

 

“ _I am not 'pissy_ '!”

 

“I never said you---wait. Hold on. Stay right there. Takao turned to watch the TV with Kuroko. A few seconds later, Midorima felt a strong warmth in his chest and a need to suddenly cling to something.

 

Takao turned back to him. “Okay, what did you just feel?”

 

“I don't know what you--”

 

“Were you happy?”

 

“I wouldn't call it that...” Takao and Kuroko stared at him. “Fine, a fondness, I suppose.”

 

“Oh, I see,” Kuroko chimed in. “Do you think it was from the blood transfer?”

 

“I don't know...” Takao hmm'd throgh a mouth of strawberry and frosting. “You know any vampires that drank from other vampires before?”

 

“No, it is curious though.”

 

“What are you talking about,” Midorima demanded.

 

“Midorima-kun,” Kuroko turned to him, “I believe you and Takao share emotions now.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“This is ridiculous. They've both gone mad,” Midorima threw another book on the cart. _Mystic Connections and the Ethereal Veil_. “It's preposterous. Never heard....thing....like” _Spiritual Links and You_ went into the cart next. “Even Kuroko! ….mad. Both.... _Soul Links For Dummies_ was throw on top in disgust and the cart was pushed over to a giant round table in the middle of the library. Midorima slammed the books down on the table, whipped out a chair, and hatefully sat down, cracking open the pages of _Mystical Messenger: what your feelings really mean in supernatural context (with illustrated emojis!)_.

 

“Oh, that one's fun,” Kuroko siddled down into the chair next to him.

 

“Ah!” Was Midorima's short reply. Then, “I wish you had been here fifteen minutes ago. Going through the catalogue for these titles was exceedingly embarrassing.”

 

“You could have waited. You know I can't be away from the library for long.”

 

“I'm aware but I want that stranger out of our house as soon as possible, _without_ having to feel neurotic every time he sees a puppy.”

 

“About that...I think it's only strong ones. If you were to share emotions constantly, you'd be impossibly conflicted a majority of the time, which would wear at the brain. Or soul. I think you just share strong emotions.”

 

“I felt the urge to sob because he was watching trashy TV.”

 

“Maybe he feels very strongly about it,” Kuroko shrugged. “Either way, I don't think those books are going to help you. People have blood transfusions every day. And it's not a spiritual link. I think you need to research blood-sharing between vampires specifically. This can't be the first incidence of such a thing.”

 

Midorima sighed. “I wish Kise would learn some level-headedness from you. One would think with the amount of time you spend together, you would have rubbed off on him in some way.”

 

“Oh, I have,” Kuroko vaguely looked down at the partially-transparant lower half of his person.

  
  


“Not in any way I can see,” Midorima said densely. “What should I read?”

  
  


“Well, I've been reading through vampire lore--” Midorima scoffed. “--and everything seems to say that the vampire which drinks blood from a dead person can get very sick or die. However--”

  
  


“I'm not dead. I'm second living.”

  
  


“Right,” Kuroko coughed politely. “I'm thinking that maybe no vampires have tried it or...they have and they've learned their lesson.”

  
  


“What do you mean by that?”

  
  


“If you had a choice, would you like to meet a bunch of vampires?”

  
  


“Not necessarily.”

  
  


“And would you want a very strong bond with another vampire? For them to know what you're feeling at all times, maybe able to tell where you are? What's happening to you?”

  
  


“Of course not, that would be dangerous and invasive, to say the least.”

  
  


“Exactly. So maybe all this vampire pulp says don't drink dead blood because vampires don't want other vampires to know so much about them. Maybe it's a warning more than anything. An excessive one.”

  
  


Midorima sat down heavily in the nearby armchair. The leather whined and farted at him as he did.

  
  


“Are you telling me that I did something that no other vampires want to do? That there is fiction written advising against, saying it is immoral or deadly because of the potential danger and threat to privacy?”

  
  


“I suppose I am.”

  
  


“What do I do,” Midorima fidgetted in the chair and the leather groaned against the fabric on his legs.

  
  


“I'm a ghost, not a vampire. I can't drink a dead person's blood even if I'd like to.”

  
  


“Kuroko. You are the most learned person in this household. If there's something in this library to help me, I trust you to find it.”

  
  


Kuroko was silent for a moment, then, “...very well. I'll look around.”

  
  


“Thank you,” Midorima coughed. He got up from the chair, which seemed to squeakily wheeze in relief.

  
  


From upstairs there was a sudden bang and a screech that sounded distinctly like Kise trying to sing Mariah Carey in the shower, followed by, “damn girl, you look _fierce!!_ ”

  
  


With that, Midorima left a levatating Kuroko to peruse the higher shelves of their not-so-modest library to go create order in chaos.

  
  


He opened the door on what was apparently a fashion show by Takao, featuring some of Kise's more animalistic articles of clothing.

  
  


“Hey, Midorimacchi. Doesn't Takaocchi look sexy?”

  
  


Midorima stared at Takao's firm six pack and noticeable-enough pectorals framed by what seemed to be a tiger fur coat and gold pants that were far too tight. Somewhere in the background music a man was whispering to a little mama and suggesting she may like to see a particular member of his anatomy.

  
  


“Oh, my, I feel like a piece of meat,” Takao held a hand to his chest and feigned offense. “If you stare at me any harder with those hot green peepers, I might just fry.”

  
  


Midorima shut the door and instead went to his room. His room was simplistic and practical and seeing his neatly made bed somehow relaxed Midorima. He walked over to his bed and sat on it, smoothing out the creases he created. He thought about the near-second-death vampire that had been almost frozen in front of his house. Was it merely coincidence that another of his type had just happened to collapse there or did that 'Takao' have other motives? The probability of the later was high. Kise was already off-guard (not that he could be relied on for any type of discretion) and Kuroko had seemed to accept Takao easily. If, for instance, Takao decided to attack them in their sleep, they would be unprepared. Not for the first or last time, Midorima would have to be the careful one.

  
  


Midorima lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was never one to laze, but it was nice to lay on an actual bed rather than sleep in an armoire. Midorima closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He slowed his breathing and relaxed, feeling all of the bed under him. He began to fade into unconsciousness when he felt a sudden jolt of excitement flash through his entire body. His hair stood on end and his skin prickled into goose flesh. He frowned deeply and moved to get up when a hand appeared through his door and waved.

  
  


Midorima sighed. “Come in, Kuroko.”

  
  


“Thanks,” Kuroko appeared, then paused, his arms out and empty. There was a dull thudding below them somewhere. “Be right back. Open the door?” Midorima got up and opened his bedroom door and Kuroko floated through it, two books in his arms.

  
  


“Have you found out yet why there are some things you can't touch?”

  
  


“Unfortunately, no. A lot of texts say that poltergeists may be able to move things we have strong attachments to, but that doesn't seem to be the case for me. It seems pretty arbitrary. It's rude to just float into someone's room through the wall.”

  
  


“Hmm,” Midorima honestly didn't know what to say to that, considering Kuroko regularly floated through walls and scared Kise silly. He imagined it would be fairly off-putting, though, to not be able to touch some things that were so ordinary to touch. He wondered whether Kuroko needed to be comforted. If so, Kise could do it.

  
  


“Did you find something?”

  
  


“Ah, yes.” Kuroko handed one book to Midorima and hovered across from him in the air as if he were sitting on a chair. “I had to go quite a ways back to get into the blood lore, but there were a few things in Latin. Primarily the idea that sharing blood shares some of your life essence, and it creates a connection between the two bodies. As for vampires...” Kuroko handed Midorima the second book, “it seems that they mostly don't drink from eachother for three reasons: One, they're elitests and think second life blood is less pure than blood straight from the source. Two, they don't want to encourage any possibility of vampires starting to hunt other vampires because it's less conspicuous, and three, the bond it creates poses an issue for most vampires. Of course, this is going off of the classical vampire concept—hates garlic, sunlight kills, etc. so I'm not sure whether all of these apply, but it seems likely reasons two and three are still applicable. Honestly, theres very little vampire mythology in Japanese texts, so to go back, it has to be Eruopean laguages mostly. There's some evidence of vampire-like beings from China and Egypt too but it would require translating or finding translated texts.”

  
  


“So what you're saying is that vampires don't share or drink each other's blood because....”

  
  


“It's just generally thought to be a bad idea.”

  
  


“Superb.”

  
  


“In my opinion, I think the link you have with Takao will fade over time. Once he drinks more blood and yours is cycled through or diluted in him, I think it will weaken and eventually, after a few meals or so, it will be gone.”

  
  


“That's more promising.”

  
  


Kuroko shrugged. “It's just a guess, but we can test the theory after he eats next time. In the mean time, I suggest you keep him here. He knows your whereabouts and your current moods. If he leaves, he might be able to tell others where we are and when you're sleeping.”

  
  


Midorima felt a rush of relief to know that he wasn't the only one concerned about the total stranger in their house.

  
  


“Not that it matters to me. Dead and all. He seems like a decent person though. I suggest you be on good terms until this issue fades....hopefully.”

  
  


Midorima had never received such an unmotivating motivational speech. He nodded, thanking Kuroko for his input and time anyways. Kuroko excused himself, sailing through the door, and Midorima went back to his bed. Whatever he was doing, Takao seemed to be in a relatively calm state. Midorima peeked outside at the night sky, opened the drapes and the window just a crack, and took the opportunity to enjoy the comfort and solace of his bed.  
  
  
  


…Only to be woken up with a jolt when something pounded on the door of his bedroom.

  
  


Midorima sucked air through his teeth, pushed up his glasses, and got up to open the door. Unfortunately, the door opened before he could open it, hitting him square in the face. Midorima stumbled backwards.

  
  


“I don't care—he's going to make both of us sick! What is he—oh, shit. Sorry, dude. It seemed like you were sleeping,” Takao bent over, offering a hand to Midorima, who had fallen onto the wood floor. Midorima ignored it, removing his glasses to check them for damage.

  
  


“Wow,” Takao's face appeared not a foot from Midorima's. Midorima jerked back. “I noticed before, but I didn't realize just how gorgeous your eyes are. They're, like, a _real_ green, aren't they?”

  
  


As gracefully as he could, Midorima pulled away, put his glasses back on, and stood up, forcing Takao away from him.

  
  


“I don't see how that has anything to do with why you are violating my personal sanctum,” Midorima bit out.

  
  


“Personal—you mean your room? I have to admit, I was kinda expecting a coffin and stuff. Old school, you know. It seems like you.”

  
  


“You have no basis for that assumption. You don't know anything about me.”

  
  


“I know you apparently like to sleep with the window open and freeze yourself, and therefore me, in the process. You're going to catch pneumonia.”

  
  


“Vampires don't catch pneumonia.”

  
  


“well, it's goddamn cold anyway. Remember: you're not the only one feeling your....feeling....now. We gotta cooperate on this. How about, if you don't sleep like Jack Frost, then I'll...”

  
  


“Refrain from watching television programs which make you overly emotional.”

  
  


“....ugh, that's not easy, but okay. Deal.”

  
  


“Good. Now, if you will be so kind as to leave--”

  
  


“There's just one tiiiiiiny little favor I have to ask.”

  
  


Midorima stared hard at Takao, who seemed to take that as a sign to continue.

  
  


“You see, I can't really leave the house right now, and Kise is gone somewhere....and....I'm kinda hungry.”

  
  


“Absolutely not.”

  
  


“Look, I wouldn't ask you if there was another way. I really can't leave the house right now, and your blood was  _ so good _ and--”

  
  


“And why can't you leave the house?”

  
  


“Well, maybe Kise or Kuroko told you but I'm kinda...in hiding, at the moment.”

  
  


Midorima knew it. Takao was a criminal. What had he done, letting a sociopath into his--

  
  


“From my maker. He's crazy. Like,  _ legit crazy. _ ”

  
  


“Your...maker?” Midorima repeated. Why would Takao be hiding from his maker, even if the maker were 'crazy'?

  
  


“Yeah, look. I'll tell you everything if you give me some blood. Just a little, just for today. I'll get my own starting tomorrow, I promise.”

  
  


Midorima thought about what Kuroko had said about diluting the blood with feeding. Would giving Takao more of his blood make the bond stronger? Midorima wanted nothing less than that. Midorima looked at Takao. Indeed, on closer inspection, there were large dark circles under his eyes and his skin had an odd yellow cast to it. His face looked strangely hollow compared to how it had been the night before after feeding. His sharp grey eyes had a strange, glassy look to them.

  
  


“...Fine. But only enough to sustain you for tonight.”

  
  


“Oh! What a gentleman!” Takao beamed and nearly skipped over to the bed, sitting on it and patting the spot next to him.

  
  


Midorima sighed and sat down, beginning to unwrap the bandages on his fingers.

  
  


“I didn't notice before because I was, like, dying or whatever, but you have really pretty hands. Do you play the piano?”

  
  


“In fact, I do.”

  
  


“I'll be careful then,” Takao grinned and his sharp eyes looked even more sunken. Midorima felt something uneasy stir in his stomach.

  
  


Midorima grudgingly sat on the bed next to Takao. “If you get blood on my duvet....”

  
  


“I'll be clean. Your doovay won't get a drop on it, I promise.”

  
  


“Fine,” Midorima held a hand out to Takao. “Only enough for tonight.”

  
  


“Will do, Handsome,” Takao took Midorima's hand in his own surprisingly gently. His hand was so cold, Midorima nearly shivered. It was cold but it was large, with wide palms that could probably come close to palming a basketball. Midorima wondered if Takao had ever played as the man gingerly lifted Midorima's index finger to his mouth...then quickly pierced the flesh with his teeth. Midorima hissed slightly.

  
  


The warmth of Takao's mouth contrasting with the icy coldness of his hand sent chills up Midorima's spine.

  
  


Soon, though, all Midorima could feel was warmth and the tickling sensation of Takao's light sucking. The insides of Takao's cheeks were soft when they pulled in around his finger and he could barely feel the bite anymore, let alone the bleeding...it felt...warm, in his stomach. Takao's tongue flicked slightly and Midorima shuddered a little. Takao let Midorima's index finger slide out of his mouth, only to instantly attack Midorima's thumb for the larger vein. This time, Midorima didn't even feel the teeth. Slowly, the feeling of desire was starting to grow in him. He wanted something. His throat felt dry. Almost parched. Takao seemed to warm slowly underneath Midorima's hand which had....somehow found it's way to Takao's hair??

  
  


“Stop. Stop, you idiot!” Midorima pushed Takao away using force. Takao licked his lips and had the audacity to look hurt.

  
  


“What do you think you're doing? You were treating me like your own personal....buffet!”

  
  


“I didn't take that much,” Takao almost whined. “Let me have a bit more? Your blood is delicious, Shin-chan.”

  
  


“ _What did you just call me.”_

  
  


“Shin-chan. Kuroko told me your name is Midorima Shintarou. So, Shin-chan.”

  
  


“How dare you be so—Is that— _please remove your bodily member that is touching my leg_!”

  
  


“I can't help the occassional stiffy! The dead will rise!”

  
  


“You're disgusting.”

  
  


“Wait...are you hard too?”

  
  


“W-what? I'm most definitely--”

  
  


“You're hard, aren't you. It felt really good, drinking your blood. I'm hard, so I bet you can feel it too and you're hard. Oh my, yes. Unless that's a wooden stake in your pants, I'd say you're happy to see me.”

  
  


“Get. Out.”

  
  


“But--”

  
  


“Get out of my room.  _ Now,” _ Midorima nearly shouted in Takao's face.

  
  


“Woah, woah. Okay. I'm sorry if I offended you. It's just a natural bodily reaction when something feels good so--”

  
  


“OUT!!”

  
  


Takao jumped up from the bed and high-tailed it for the door. Before leaving though, he paused.

  
  


“I take chances when I see an opportunity. I think you're hot. I like to live a little since I'm undead and all, so if you ever wanna, y'know...” Takao made an obscene gesture with his hand and the tongue in his mouth. “just let me--”

  
  


“ _ I would never. _ ”

  
  


“What, it's not like we're total strangers in an alley or something? I mean--”

  
  


“I. Would. Never.”

  
  


“Okay, fine, fine. Just saying, I'd eat fifty cloves of garlic if you'd let me at least suck your blood again.”

  
  


Midorima got up from the bed and slowly stalked up to Takao, leaning on the door frame, his face close enough to whisper, “If you don't leave right this minute, I will remove you from this house by force, in broad daylight, and leave you on the street for your corneas to burn in your eye sockets.”

  
  


Takao whistled, closing the door behind him. “I'll take that as a 'maybe'!” He called before Midorima kicked the door shut on him.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know anymore. Hit me up on tumblr. Schumie.


	3. Sexual His-story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiked blood and backstory

Midorima Shintarou, at the age of 28 human years, was drunk for the first time in his life. It was not intentional.  
  
“Midorimacchiiiiiii, you're so pretty, why do you have to have such a stick up your butt all the time,” Kise whined into Midorima's shoulder. Midorima pushed him off and Kise teetered like a weeble wobble, finally finding his equilibrium only to slouch to the other side on the couch.  
  
“I'd like to have my stick up his butt,” Takao chimed in unhelpfully.  
  
“Hm....interesting,” Kuroko scribbled on a notepad that he was holding.  
  
“Kurokocchiii, don' use us fer your research! You're a ghost! Why do you need to know so much about vampires? Just pay attention to meeeee.”  
  
“Kise-kun, I'm researching vampires not only to help Takao-kun and Midorima-kun but also so that I understand you better.”  
  
“Kurokocchi,” Kise sobbed. “You're the best boyfriend ever.” Kise launched himself at Kuroko, who chose that moment to make himself entirely intangible.  
  
“I don't recall ever agreeing on the status of our relationship,” Kuroko said over the dull thud of Kise hitting the floor.  
  
“Kise, this is all your fault,” Midorima attempted to push his glasses up and nearly stabbed himself in the eye. He sighed. “If you used more discretion when choosing who to drink from, we wouldn't be in this....this...”  
  
“Midorimacchi doesn't get us blood at all! You'd starve without me!”  
  
“You have to make yourself useful somehow. I pay our bills. What else do you do besides....wear outrageous things and fawn over Kuroko?”  
  
“Wow, you guys are really boring drunks,” Takao chimed in.  
  
“Shuttup, Takao.”  
  
“Ohhhh, I like that. Get mad at me more. It's hot. Your eyes are like drunky green fires~”  
  
“Kise! This is all your fault! You know not to take blood from intoxicated people! Your head is as empty as a mirror when I look at it—“  
  
“OOOOOOOO, harsh,” Takao cheered.  
  
“Is Kise asleep on the floor?”  
  
“I believe so,” Kuroko replied.  
  
“He's going to drool on the Afgan! Get him out of here!”  
  
“I would be happy to oblige, but....incorporeal,” Kuroko shrugged.  
  
“Only when it's convenient!”  
  
“Yeah! It's always, 'I'm tired,' or 'you're drunk' or 'I'm incorporeal',” Kise mumbled into the carpet. 'It's only when he doesn't want to do something! Must be so nice being a ghost.”  
  
“I could give you the experience if you want it that badly,” Kuroko offered and a chill ran through the room. Kise snored in response.  
  
“I'll do it,” Takao offered. He moved over to the floor and scooped Kise up with a huff of effort. “geez, this guy is skinny but there's so much of him,” Takao dragged Kise, his feet trailing.  
  
“Not where it matters,” Kuroko remarked offhandedly. Then, “I was referring to his brain,” he clarified as he drifted away behind Takao and Kise.  
  
Midorima was left by himself in the spinning living room. He felt full and nauseous. He wondered, not for the first time, if his housemate could accidentally fall heart-first on a stake. Then he wouldn't be in embarrassing situations like the current one.  
  
Takao's return was marked by a dull thud as he fell into the doorjam before righting himself. “Shit, outch,” came his whiny voice. Midorima had noticed that Takao's voice shifted a lot. Sometimes it was high and annoying like Kise's, other times it was oddly low and confusing.  
  
Takao collapsed on the other end of the couch, not bothering to brush his earlier crumbs away. Midorima cringed.  
  
“So how long have Kuroko and Kise been...,”  
  
“Been what?”  
  
“You know...how long has Kuroko been giving up the ghost? How long has Kuroko been possessing Kise's peen? How long has Kuroko been giving Kise ectoplasm orgasms?” Takao made a lewd gesture with his hands like he was skewering a donut.  
  
“That is disgusting and none of our business,” Midorima colored and snapped out.  
  
“Still, you gotta wonder how they do it? I mean, like the physical (metaphysical?) mechanics of it. Don't you wanna know?”  
  
“I want to know absolutely nothing about Kise's romantic endeavors, in any way, shape, or form.”  
  
“Okay, okay, I'll drop it.”  
  
The two sat in silence for a moment. “I'm going to clean up,” Midorima sighed.  
  
“I'll help!” Takao chirped.  
  
“No need.”  
  
“It's not like I'm doing anything else. Besides, all we have is time, right?”  
  
“If you insist.”  
  
Midorima and Takao collected the glasses they had drunk their spiked blood from and carried them to the kitchen a bit wobbily.  
  
Midorima put on his orange dish gloves and began scrubbing a glass.  
  
“Sooooo....how do you like being a vampire?” Takao took the glass from Midorima and dried it with a clean-enough looking dish cloth.  
  
“...Are we really having this conversation? Now? While we're both intoxicated?”  
  
“I could sing instead but I'm guessing you wouldn't like that.”  
  
Midorima sighed. “It's fine. I will have more opportunities to gather knowledge and experience than any human I know, and that alone is worth the price, I suppose.  
  
“Hmm,” Takao replied noncommittedly. “How long have you been a vampire?”  
  
“If you're trying to guage how strong I am, then--”  
  
“Dude. I'm not going to fight you. I'm just trying to make small talk. Let's change it. What's your favorite animal?”  
  
“...I feel neutral towards all animals except cats.”  
  
“Cat lover?”  
  
“I hate them. One day my lucky item was a cat and I attempted to pet one and it attacked me.”  
  
Takao made a noise like a dying elephant. “Wa-ahahahah, you mean you don't like them because you were scratched once?”  
  
Midorima didn't like the annoying urge to laugh that was bubbling up in him. He resisted it.  
  
“It practically savaged me.”  
  
“You are one strange bird, you know that? It's too bad you're so hot. Or maybe it's better because of it, I don't know. Wait—did you just say 'lucky item'?”  
  
“Yes. Oha-asa's lucky item and color.”  
  
“You follow that?” Takao took another glass from Midorima and dried it, drooping drunkenly against Midorima.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Every day?”  
  
“Yes,” Midorima said, feeling annoyance begin.  
  
“That explains so much about the decoration in this house. I was staring at the two-meter tall stuffed giraffe in the corner of the dining room yesterday, trying to figure out if Kise had stolen it when he was on MDMA or something.”  
  
“That was the lucky item for September 3rd last year. It was a very lucky day,” Midorima bit out.  
  
“Got it. Lucky items guy. Kinda cute in a gap moe kind of way.” Takao put the glass away in a cupboard and returned to Midorima's side.  
  
“what is 'gap moe'?”  
  
“Nevermind. I think it's cool you have something you're obviously so into. I wish I had a hobby. I mean, I've had a lot, but none I've stuck to.”  
  
“It's not just a hobby,” Midorima bit out. He hadn't been so offended since Kise had brought home a leopard print shirt for him, saying that he thought it would look good on him.  
  
“Hey, Shin-chan?”  
  
“I told you to stop calling me--” Midorima turned quickly only for his face to be squished against Takao's, Takao's hands grabbing either side of his head and pulling him downward.  
  
Takao's lips moved squishedly against Midorima's and they were pressed so tightly together it was almost impossible to tell who's lips were who's until Takao's began moving against Midorima's. They moved lightly against his and the feeling almost tickled. Midorima was frozen, stuck in experiencing Takao's lips. They were fuller than Midorima's, and pliant against Midorima's. Takao took Midorima's bottom lip between his and dragged on it lightly. Midorima felt a shiver pass through him.  
  
His head was swimming. Takao's lips were warm and firm and soft and....slimy. Suddenly Midorima's stomach was doing flip flops and the alcohol wasn't liking it.  
  
“Mnnm,” Midorima attempted to say. “Ta-ow!” Midorima felt warmness rising up from his stomach. He gathered his strength and pushed Takao away with all his might. Takao stumbled back and Midorima clutched a hand to his mouth, his cheeks bulging out.  
  
Midorima ran for the restroom.

  
  
______________________________________________________________________________________________

  
  
Midorima was hungover and desperately attempting to forget the previous night. He watched Kise mix hot sauce and a raw egg into his breakfast blood and nearly vomitted in the kitchen. Kise, though he claimed to be hungover, somehow managed to look exactly like he did before he went to a modeling job, which, coincidentally, he was doing. “What can I say, I'm used to this,” he claimed. Midorima's disdain grew, and he scowled Kise out of the kitchen. Midorima clutched his own, pure, breakfast in a clammy hand.  
  
A single tear dropped into Midorima's glass of blood.  
  
“TAKAO! CHANGE THE CHANNEL,” Midorima yelled from the kitchen and immediately regretted it.  
  
“Sorry! I can't help it! Those abused animal commercials get to me every time.”  
  
“I don't care! You gave me your word.”  
  
“Okay, sorry, sorry. Goddamn you, Sarah Mclachlan and your angel arms” came a sniffy reply.  
  
Midorima sighed exasperatedly and went back to drinking his breakfast.  
  
'Hey, Shin-chan!”  
  
Midorima nearly spilled his blood. He ground his teeth.  
  
“What are you doing today? Wanna play Monopoly” Takao called from the living room. Why he felt it was necessary to yell from two rooms away, Midorima could not understand. It irked him enormously.  
  
Midorima ignored the house-crasher, finishing his blood before he spilled any of the precious commodity.  
  
“Not a Monopoly guy? Me neither, actually. How about a good, old-fashioned game of Strip Twister? I'll even let you go first,” Takao offered graciously.  
  
Midorima walked stiffly into the living room and right past Takao. “I'm working today,” he bit out and made his way upstairs.  
  
Midorima went into his study, sighing in relief at the sight of it and an empty window where Kise normally liked to perch and disrupt Midorima's work. Midorima sat down at his desk and took out a fresh piece of paper. He dipped his pen in its inkwell and continued his work. While Kise received random modeling jobs, he was restricted by the nature of his being (and his idiocy) and that left Midorima as the main source of income in the household. Midorima, who had once studied to be a doctor before he was turned, could no longer continue with his intended profession. Instead, he took his medical knowledge and applied it to fiction, writing 'dry but exceptionally accurate' medical suspense novels. They sold poorly but enough to pay the bills. His relationship with his editor, however, was strained, to say the least. His editor could not understand why Midorima insisted on the long-standing art of handwriting and also insisted that Midorima needed to insert more 'character' into his writing. Even for a Japanese novelist, his writing 'lacked feeling'.  
  
Midorima was anything but lacking feelings as of the last two days. It seemed that Takao was fairly subdued at the moment, so Midorima took advantage and set to writing. He was on a scene where the main character was performing a particularly precarious Septal Myotomy. Little did the doctor know, but the cardiopulminary bypass would fail, the heart-lung machine turning off in a power surge, requiring the doctor to stop the procedure and massage the heart by hand, etc. It was all very thrilling.  
  
Midorima, who had assumed Takao was merely calm for once, found an odd sensation starting to nibble at the back of his mind. It made Midorima feel like there was an itch he couldn't scratch. Midorima continued writing. The power had just overwhelmed the heart-lung machine when the itch grew stronger. Midorima felt antsy. He ignored it, continuing to write the panic of the surgeon's assistants settled in. The feeling grew even stronger, this time with a dark sort of thickness that started in his stomach. The doctor called for--  
  
Midorima couldn't take it anymore. The weird black pit in his stomach was growing, then ebbing, then growing. Midorima put his pen down less than gently and marched to the door.  
  
“Kuroko!” He called.  
  
“Yes?” Kuroko appeared out of the room next door.  
  
“What is Takao doing?.”  
  
“You could go check yourself.”  
  
“It's interrupting my work.”  
  
“I see.” Kuroko nodded and bled into the floor, returning a few moments later.  
  
“He's staring at your chess board. More specifically, he's holding the white King piece and looking like I scared him.”  
  
“Well, can he stop it?”  
  
“Stop his feelings?”  
  
Midorima sighed. “Alright, I'll talk to him. Thank you.”  
  
Kuroko shrugged and disappeared again through the next door, which served as his bedroom. Whether ghosts needed beds, especially ghosts that couldn't be away from their haunting place for long (in this case, the library), Midorima didn't know or care to. Kuroko had been there before Kise or himself, so Midorima thought there was no harm in allocating a room to the spectre when they had a spare one.  
  
Midorima closed his study door behind him and went downstairs. Takao wasn't in the living room, in front of the TV like had had been the last two days. He was in the receiving room. And, indeed, he was staring at Midorima's ivory chess set.  
  
“Takao.”  
  
Takao jumped, spinning around.  
  
“Oh, it's you, Shin-chan,” he said hollowly. There was an odd look in his eyes.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I just...this is a nice chess set.” Takao placed the king piece back on the board.  
  
“Thank you. It was a present...” Midorima noted that Takao had not answered his question.  
  
“I always thought the pawns got the short end of the stick. The rest of the pieces wouldn't be anywhere without them.”  
  
“Not true, pawns can be just as useful as any other piece. Even more so, as people tend to underestimate them.”  
  
“...Funny. My creator said the same thing. I think he really believed it too. Except he also said nothing mattered without the king. The king means everything.”  
  
“I...suppose that is true. The king is the objective, after all.”  
  
“Yeah...” Takao frowned, and Midorima noticed that one of his eyes twitched slightly.  
  
Midorima sighed. He wasn't going to get any work done like this.  
  
“Before, you said you would tell me about your creator. Why you're running from him.”  
  
“Oh, right. Before we both got stiffies. Before our pickles were tickled.”  
  
Midorima nearly left the room right then, but for the fact that Takao's joking was utterly devoid of any notion of happiness or jeering.  
  
Midorima sat on the love seat across from the chess set.  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
Takao turned to him, wide-eyed. Midorima met his eyes, silently.  
  
Takao turned away, “Okay...sure.” and moved across the room, seeming to put as much space between him and the chess board as possible.  
He moved to the small bookcase in the room, against the wall, looking at the titles without looking.  
  
“I told you before that my maker is crazy. I was thinking about him because I remember that he had a chess set almost just like that one in his room. He had everything in his room. Piano, chess set, tons of books, cruicifixes....”  
  
“My creator is absent, but he is dutiful and checks on my well-being at least twice a year. It is unfortunate that you have a creator you feel you must run from. ”  
  
“You don't know the half of it. The guy is psycho. He'd probably kill me if he found out I'm in the state I'm in.”  
  
Midorima wasn't sure what to say to that, but he was curious.  
  
“If it's not too rude, may I ask how old you are? Young creators can be irresponsible, I've noticed.” Makoto, the self-pronounced vampire leader in the area, was a fairly young creator, and he'd used his powers more as a way to create an unruly gang than anything.  
  
“I'm 120 years old, more or less.”  
  
Midorima nearly choked on his own spit. He stared wide-eyed at Takao.  
  
“You're 120 years old? But—I was sure that I was older.”  
  
“I look young for my age, I know,” Takao smirked.  
  
Midorima got up. It was going to be a long story. He went over to the large wooden globe and opened it. Inside was a small bar, which Midorima kept stocked with blood when they had it. The extras from what Kise had brought home early that morning were in there, surrounded by ice. Midorima took out two tumblers and poured them half-full. He handed one to Takao, who looked at him with eyes so grateful, it made Midorima's ears itch.  
  
“I've only met one vampire as old as you and he was my creator...,” Midorima said more to himself than Takao. How old is your creator?”  
  
Takao took a small sip of blood. “I think he's around my age, but I can't be sure. I don't know how long he was like that before I came along.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“It's a long story...got anything to spike this with?”  
  
Midorima stared at him blankly, then raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Take that as a no. Well, maybe it'll be good to get it off my chest.” Takao moved to the fireplace. Midorima waited patiently. After all, he wanted to know why the man was still in his house, and who was the reason behind it.  
  
“So...I guess I'll start from the beginning. I was born in 1903....My family and I lived in the Kansai region but when the great depression hit, my dad lost his job at the docks because other countries weren't importing Japanese goods anymore or whatever, and we moved to the Kanto region—my mom, dad, me, and my little sister. My parents found work for a wealthy family on their estate out in the mountainy forest area to the western side of what's called the Kanto plain now, I think. Anyway, whatever. This family had a huge estate that was very western for the time. My dad worked in their stables, taking care of horses. My mom became a cook and my sister was a maid. I helped take care of the grounds and the dogs. In that way, we were really thankful to the family 'cuz we were all employed and, most importantly, we were able to stay together.  
  
We spent at least five years there, I think. The Mistress was reserved and gorgeous and treated my sister politely. The Master I rarely saw unless he wanted to go hunting. He was kinda scary, honestly. They had a son that looked to be about my age, but I didn't know that until later because he was always sick and stayed holed up in his room. Only the head maid, butler, and his parents went into his room. His parents, not so much. My dad thought it was because the kid was contagious and they didn't want to catch it. Sometimes I would hear piano or violin music though, and I knew it was coming from his room. I stopped and listened a few times. The kid was definitely talented.  
  
Younger maids and helpers came and went but my family stayed on and my parents were really greatful to the Mistress and Master, so I did my best too. I was always polite to them, but they always seemed really cold to me. Maybe because I reminded them of their sick son or something, I don't know.  
  
Sometimes, when I was out letting the dogs wander around or when I was cutting hedges, I would feel eyes on me, but I didn't know from where. One day, I was in the house and I was looking for my sister. I cut some flowers for her and thought she could make them nice for the Mistress or whatever. The house was pretty empty because the Mistress and Master were out, so I went upstairs to look for my sister.”  
  
There, Takao paused. He stared at his glass of blood and took a long gulp of it, wiping a dribble away with his hand.  
  
“Instead, I found the door to the young master's bedroom open a bit. I passed by it because I knew I shouldn't go in, but as I did, I caught sight of a body on the floor. It looked like the person was in trouble, so I opened the door and ran into the room. Lying on the floor, face down, was the young master. I knew it was him because he looked just like his mom. I turned him over onto his back to see if he was breathing...and that's when I realized he had a chain around his ankle. He was chained to the bed in his room and the bed was bolted to the floor. That, and there were crucifixes and sutras hung all over the room.  
  
I checked the young master and he had no pulse. I was just about to yell for help when his eyes opened. I couldn't look away. His eyes were like honey and I was a fly. I sat there, holding him for who knows how long before he spoke.  
  
'My father and mother are coming back. You should leave now,' he said. He pushed himself up to sitting and I let go of him.  
  
I didn't want to. A kid that looked about the same age as me was chained up in a room. No wonder no one had seen him. His parents must be crazy if they hung crucifixes everywhere. The boy was small in size, and thin. He had little muscle, probably from being locked in a room all the time. He couldn't hurt anyone. Unless his disease really was so contagious that his parents couldn't risk him leaving his room.... I started to panic a little. What if I'd caught what he had by being in there?  
  
He told me I needed to leave, now, because his parents were almost there, and it was true. I heard the door downstairs open and the butler greet the Master and Mistress. I took the boy's arm, which seemed to surprise him, and helped him to the bed before running out of the room as fast as I could. I hid in a closet until I was sure no one would see me and went downstairs and outside to continue my work.  
  
All day, I wondered what I should do. It wasn't right, locking a boy up like that, but there must be a reason or the Master and Mistress wouldn't do it. The boy didn't seem deformed in any way, and his speech was clear and smooth—almost like a voice you would want to follow. I couldn't think of anything wrong with the boy besides for his strange, hypnotizing eyes. I wondered if I should tell my family. My father would probably tell me to let it be, and my mother might say the same. I could tell my sister, but there was a chance that, working in the house, she already knew.  
  
I was putting the dogs in the kenel for the night when the head maid came walking across the lawn. She looked me up and down and I remember she seemed really scary in the sunset. She handed me a letter, huffed at me, and walked away.  
  
My mom had been an attendant for a lady before, so she knew how to read and write, and she'd taught me and my sister when I was little. I knew the writing I was reading was super classy the moment I saw it. I couldn't write that beautifully, no matter how hard I tried. The letter started with an apology for scaring me, which I thought was odd, but polite. And then it asked if I could come again the next day, in the evening and could I not tell anyone? And 'surely I understood why'. It was signed by the young master.”  
  
Here, Takao took another, longer pull from his glass. Midorima stared at him, an odd sense of dread beginning to pool in the bottom of his stomach.  
  
“Honestly,” Takao continued, “I didn't want to. I didn't want to get involved with whatever was going on with the young master, but I also couldn't refuse the request of a kid who was chained to his freaking bed and left alone all day, could I?”  
  
Midorima figured it was a rhetorical question, so he didn't bother replying. The odd, curling sense of dread in his stomach was growing.  
  
“So, the next evening I waited until it was clear and I went in the house and upstairs. The door was shut, so I knocked lightly and the voice from the day told me to come in. I opened the door (it took a little jiggling) and went in. The young master was sitting on his bed, and he looked even weaker than the day before. He gestured to the bed for me to sit down—there were no other chairs in the room except a bench by a small upright piano. I politely refused but he said that he insisted, so I had to sit down.  
  
Sitting next to him was the strangest sensation. It was like sitting next to a living block of ice. It was like I could feel the cold coming off of him.”  
  
Midorima suddenly felt a run of chills up his spine. He wondered if Takao were reliving the story and if he should stop him, but Midorima wanted to know the rest.  
  
The young master was very polite. He said he wanted to thank me in person for coming to his aid, even though I didn't actually do anything. He asked me my name and I felt like I couldn't help but tell him. He said he had seen me exercising the dogs before and that I looked very healthy and happy, which, thinking about it after, was a really weird thing to say. He said that he wished he had gotten to know me before.  
  
Then he apologized.  
  
And he tore into my neck with his teeth.”  
  
Silence fell as Takao played with his glass, swirling the little bit of blood left in it. Midorima felt like someone was sitting on his chest. It felt hard to breathe. They sat in silence for a little more, until Takao smiled slightly.  
  
“Kinda dark, right?”  
  
“....If you want to, I can keep listening.”  
  
“Yeah...I think that may be good for me.”  
  
Takao turned his neck and it audinly popped a little. Midorima shuddered.  
  
“So...” Takao continued, “when I woke up, I don't know what time of night it was, but my whole body was hot. There were strange crackling sounds and an odd light. I managed to push myself up and drag myself out of the room, only to find that the house was on fire. The entire house. Flames were coming out of the room next to me. They singed the hair on my arms. I ran to the staircase and could see over the banister that there was fire burning in the foyer and living rooms. The fire was moving down the hall toward me. I panicked. I had to find my sister. I ran around the house, calling for her. I opened a closed door, burning my hand on the doornob, only to find a room burning entirely. On the large postered bed inside there were two figures—I think they were the Master and Mistress—burnt black and still in flames. I began to panick more. It seemed no one else was in the house though, so I ran outside.  
  
The stables were on fire too and horses were whinnying inside I threw open the stable doors to let them out. Behind the stables, the servants' quarters where my family lived were on fire too. I rushed over and kicked the door down, but no one was inside. I went back out and a few maids were running away across the lawn, screaming about a demon. A demon from hell.  
  
My family was gone. They must have run away when the servants' quarters started on fire. They must have assumed I was safe since I wasn't there. That I was out with the dogs or something. No matter, they weren't there, and the house was miles and miles from the nearest town, so the fire wouldn't be stopped until morning, even if help came. My neck was aching, blood dried and clotted on the gash in it, and my whole body felt sluggish, so I slowly made my way away from the house and into the forest.  
  
I didn't meet my family again. I searched for them, but I had to keep a low profile. I had no idea what I had become. Regular food didn't satisfy me, just being near sunlight made everything hurt, and I found strange cravings for raw meat. I nearly ate a lady's dog right in front of her once. I didn't know it was blood I needed.  
  
I was busy just trying to figure out how to survive. It was after a few months of living on pigeons and stray cats and lurking around in dark alleys that he showed up again. My maker. He told me I had become a vampire and that I must come with him. That we were family now. And, the worst part of all of it, was that I had to. I physically couldn't refuse him. So, he traveled around with me following along like some zombie pet on a leash. It was a different time, and crime and the law weren't as advanced then. He had no problem killing people for blood, and would do it regularly while I had to stand and watch. Once, he ordered me to kill a man and I resisted. Every inch of my body felt like it was on fire. I managed to resist, but after he killed the man instead, he beat the living daylights out of me. He was older than me, but more than that, I think it's because he drank human blood all the time, while I insisted on birds and cats and dogs.  
  
We traveled around Honshu for several months like that. He said he was looking for more people who would be suitable to join our 'family'. He said he was going to make a race of people stronger, smarter, better than all other people. A 'generation of miracles', or something. I just wanted to find my family and get away from him.  
  
It was the end of Summer when the Great Kanto earthquake hit. Everything was a mess. People screaming, buildings crumbling. I got seperated from Him by a collapsed bridge and I took the opportunity. I ran.  
  
I went South, to the Kansai region, thinking that maybe my family had returned to where we had original come from, but I didn't find them. Lots of people spread out and South after the earthquake and there were tons of people without homes just living on the streets. Everything was messed up and any chance I had of finding them pretty much disappeared. I like to think they all lived nice, long lives, but I couldn't stay in any one place for very long. I knew He was looking for me. He found me in Hokkaido once, and I stabbed him with a knife I'd bought. Silver. It didn't do anything to him but it gave me enough time to get away. I ran from him for several years. When I went to Europe I finally shook him. It's only been in the last decade that I came back to Japan. But I swear, the moment I stepped foot here, it's been like his eyes are on me. I feel like he's watching me all the time.  
  
It's made me a bit paranoid. I was wandering around so he couldn't track me down, and I guess I forgot to eat. And, here I am,” Takao shrugged, smiling. “Not much of a story, but believe me when I tell you my maker is one scary dude.”  
  
“....I believe you,” Midorima said quietly, because he did. While Takao had told his story, Midorima had felt a mixture of strong emotions, most of which he assumed weree from Takao. He couldn't feel the anxiety and giddy fear that he had and not believe Takao.  
  
“Then, is it cool if I crash here a little longer,” Takao beamed at him. Midorima didn't know how he could go from feeling that to smiling so quickly.  
  
Midorima sighed. “I suppose it can't be helped. Just until you're back to normal health.”  
  
“Well, that's the thing....” Takao got up and wandered over to the fireplace mantel. He picked up the abstract Grecco-Roman vase on it and turned it in his hands, eyebrow raised. “Is this a rainbow dolphin? And Poseidon shirtless? Man, the dude is ripped, even when he's neon pink.”  
  
“What's the thing,” Midorima pressed. After all the feelings he'd experienced through Takao, he felt like he shouldn't force Takao to speak on the matter, but since it potentially involved his and Kise's safety too, he needed to.  
  
“Well, time seems to make my maker stronger, but it seems like I'm becoming weaker. I think he knows that somehow. And that's why he's tracking me down. I think he....er, wants to...cull the herd, or whatever.”  
  
“That's ridiculous. There are so few vampires as it is, why would he go through the trouble of making you and then--”  
  
“That's the thing. I don't think he meant to make me. I think I was supposed to die in that house and my body was supposed to burn in the fire. I think he didn't quite know how it worked yet. That's why he kept me near him. And, since he discovered he can make other people like him, he wants to create a group of people strong, like himself. The people he thinks are worth it. And I'm no longer strong like him. Maybe it's because he made me when he was young. Who knows. If I'm right, though, he's gonna keep tracking me down. So, I won't stay here long. I don't want to put you and Kise in danger. Just until I think it's safe for me to be out and about again, I promise.”  
  
Midorima stared at Takao's smiling face. His narrow, almond eyes the color of bluish quicksilver. His face was smiling but his eyes were sharp. Midorima felt like he was having more than his emotions read by Takao. He suddenly had the thought that perhaps Takao was a lot more keen than he let on. He was over a hundred years old, after all.  
  
“So, did my story make you sad for me? Can we pity fuck now?”  
  
Nevermind, Midorima thought.  
  
“Your story was...illuminating. It is truly a pity that your creator is such a person. My creator is intelligent, shrewd, and commands respect and honor, and he deserves it.”  
  
“Sounds like mine, only the psycho totally doesn't deserve anything. He fried his own parents alive, and took my family from me, but sure, he's definitely smart. Otherwise I wouldn't be so....”  
  
“Scared.”  
  
“I'm not scared of him. Not really. I'm scared of what he'll make me do. I think because I was his first...whatever...our bond is really strong, but it's a one-way thing. I don't have any power over him, or myself when he gives me orders. He's like...an emperor or something. Creators are crazy.”  
  
“I'm thankful that Akashi also commands but that his commands always have a purpose and are generally reasonable,” Midorima pointed out.  
  
Takao walked back to Midorimal, silent, and moved to the love seat, sitting down next to Midorima so close that their knees touched. He leaned in and looked Midorima directly in the eyes. Midorima felt a small shiver crawl it's way between his neck and shoulder blades. Takao's piercing, beautiful, Midorima realized, eyes were impossible to look away from when that close.  
  
'What....” Takao whispered, and Midorima could almost feel the breath on his face, “What did you just say?”  
  
Midorima took a big breath in, gathering himself. “I said, I'm glad my creator--”  
  
“The name,” Takao whispered, but it was sharp, harsh, commanding. Midorima was annoyed to find a slight thrill moved through him.  
  
“Akashi,” he answered. “Akashi Seijuurou.”  
  
Midorima watched as Takao's eyes narrowed only slightly, the only hint of emotional change on his face. Takao moved slowly away from Midorima, the warmth of his leg leaving Midorima's. Takao got up and silently moved to the door. There, he seemed to remember where he was, and looked back at Midorima.  
  
The expression on his face was indescribable. Confusion, anger, hatred, and something else seemed to battle for domination.  
  
“I can't stay here,” Takao murmered. Then louder, “I have to leave. Now.”


	4. Sometimes a Blood-Sucking Is Just a Blood-Sucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takao and Midorima compare their images of Akashi, and something beastly happens to Kise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting short chapters, trying to get out what I can before work gets crazy next week. Don't get used to the frequent updates.

“This sucks!”

  
  


“ _Kise._ ”

  
  


“No, this totally sucks. He just got here! We just became friends! Sisters! What did you say to him? You must have said something to him.”

  
  


“ All of you made it abundantly clear that I have no say in whether he stays or leaves.”

  
  


Kise drooped onto the couch. “This sucks.”

  
  


“Kise, I am aware that you have become...friends...with Takao, despite the extremely short time that he has been here, but as a friend, you should honor his decisions without questioning them too much.”

  
  


“That's exactly what friends do! They question your decisions! It's what keeps you straight (not like that, I'm totally gay.) That's what you do for me all the time! You keep me in check, and I make sure your life isn't completely lame!”

  
  


Midorima literally didn't know how to answer the fact that Kise somehow thought they were friends. Even more, the concept that Kise believed he somehow aided Midorima... The idea of it was so stupid, it took the words out of his mouth.

  
  


Kise looked like he was about to kick the couch. Instead, he seemed to think better of it and puffed his chest out. “I'm going out for blood,” he announced. “Before you kick me out too.”

  
  


Midorima sighed, watching Kise march away. He thought of going to the library, but Kuroko, in his quiet way, would probably blame him too. The thought of Kuroko silently holding a grudge was actually very unsettling, so Midorima headed upstairs to his study.

  
  


He did not expect to find Takao there. But, there he was, staring out the window. He was obviously concentrating very hard, because he made no sign of acknowledgement when Midorima entered the room. Midorima thought about leaving, but the only place left to go was his bedroom, and there was nothing productive there. So, Midorima walked over to his desk and pulled out his chair.

  
  


That seemed to wake Takao's senses. Takao flinched a little then turned around, calm smile on his face.

  
  


“Oh, hey, Shin-chan. Didn't mean to get in your way. I can leave now.”

  
  


“He's not coming.”

  
  


“Who?” Takao feigned ignorance as well as Kise feigned intelligence.

  
  


“Akashi. As I said, he usually checks on me once or twice a year, and he's already been here this year. So, what I mean is...”

  
  


“Awww, you don't want me to leave.”

  
  


“Trust me, that is not the case. I just...can't reconcile your depiction of Akashi with the Akashi that I know. He's keen, logicial, and generally very fair.”

  
  


“How did you become a vampire,” Takao asked, turning fully to Midorima. Midorima was taken back by the sudden whiplash of emotions that had gone from fear to anger at the mention of Akashi's name, then anger and confusion. “Did he approach you and ask for your permission to drink his blood? Did you agree to eternal life as an undead? Did he politely ask you to join his family of eternal blood-drinking beings?”

  
  


“Second living.”

  
  


“Second living. Whatever. _Did he give you a choice?”_

  
  


Midorima faltered. Takao obviously felt very strongly about the topic. They stood in silence for a few moments before Midorima spoke. He hadn't told anyone about his making. Not even Kise. It wasn't a large secret, it just felt...personal.

  
  


“...the circumstances were dire.”

  
  


Takao gave one more glance out the window and moved closer to Midorima. His piercing eyes were directed at Midorima's and Midorima couldn't help but feel a chill. He felt like Takao was reading his soul.

  
  


“I was in an accident,” Midorima felt compelled to explain, “a very bad one. I was injured playing basketball. I had a concussion and spinal fracture that left me with difficulty using many of my faculties. I also had regular seizures. Aksashi said I could be healed, back to my original state, no, even better. He said I would be faster, stronger, and I would have all the time in the world to study medicine and play basketball. The benefit and the price would be eternal life.”

  
  


Takao outright scoffed.

  
  


“I...didn't believe him,” Midorima continued, somehow feeling annoyed. “I was a medical student. I knew there was no such thing as eternal life, and very rarely did people completely recover from a condition like mine, and even more rarely did they recover completely. I...thought he was a hallucination. Standing in my hospital room, eyes glowing. I agreed, because I thought it was a dream, and because I had no other choice. I could be a financial and emotional burden on my family and never complete my goals for the rest of my life, or I could take a chance on a man in a dream.”

  
  


“You do realize that he probably knew you thought you were hallucinating.”

  
  


“It has occured to me before. But his word was good. I was healed, and now I am free to do whatever I want with my time.”

  
  


“And that's writing medical suspense mass market paperbacks?”

  
  


“...There are limitations because of what I am, but I am able to study in my spare time, anything that I wish.”

  
  


Takao approached Midorima slowly, stopping close enough to him that Midorima could make out his smell. He smelled like Midorima's shampoo and tomato juice. Somehow, the smell was....fascinating.

  
  


“How long have you been a vampire?”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“How long?”

  
  


“Six years.”

  
  


Takao sighed. “And you said you have family.”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“When I told you how I was made before, how I was seperated from my family...What I didn't tell you is that after the earthquake, when I traveled around Japan, I did find my them. I found them too late.”

  
  


Midorima blinked. He had assumed Takao had never seen his family after. Takao had made it seem that way. Takao ran a hand through his hair, irritably.

  
  


“My sister was an old woman. Our parents had died long before that. I couldn't talk to my sister. There I was, I hadn't aged a day, and she was dying. I was a tresspasser at my own baby sister's funeral, hiding behind the trees. I didn't choose that. My family, and my right to die before my kid sister were all taken from me without a word. But you know the worst part? Standing there, behind the trees, watching them bury my sister, I saw him. Akashi was there, standing with the mourners. Waiting for me at my sister's funeral. So I had to leave. I didn't get to say goodbye to her. _He_ did that. He tricked me, and, if you really think about it, he tricked you. He gave you the devil's choice—something you couldn't say no to, while I...I never got the chance to say no.

  
  


Things are good now. Your family is all still alive. You live in a nice place, you don't starve for blood, and your creator doesn't force you to do anything. Yet. Wait until he finishes his army of monsters. Then see what happens when he has all his chess pieces. You can bet your hot ass he's not gonna let you continue playing Golden Girls with Kise and Kuroko. I knew Akashi when he started, and I know he won't stop.”

  
  


“That's preposterous,” Midorima bit out. But even as he said it, he could feel Takao's conviction. He could feel the belief behind Takao's words, and that feeling made his stomach begin to churl.

  
  


Takao put a hand on Midorima's shoulder. The hand was heavy and warm. “I'm telling you this for a reason. I can run away. I've been doing it for years. You should have a backup plan, at least. Maybe you'll be lucky. Maybe his commands are strong against me because I was his first-made. Maybe it gets weaker the more he makes. But maybe it doesn't, and who knows what he could make you do when he decides it's time.”

  
  


“I...understand how you feel about Akashi. More than I would like to. But I believe he's changed since you knew him.” Midorima couldn't believe what he was about to say. “If you would like, I would be willing to... mediate or...act as an inbetween. I could speak to him on your behalf. Tell him that you would like to be left alone.”

  
  


“Do you really think he'd accept that?” Takao's eyes were cold fire. Midorima could see it would be very difficult to change his mind. Midorima sighed and pushed up his glasses. “If Akashi does not agree, you can continue running away from him. If he does agree, you will finally be at peace to do what you like, where you like. However, the Akashi I know is a reasonable person, and I'm sure a reasonable conclusion can be met. I can't believe I am saying this, but as Kise says so often, it couldn't hurt to try.”

  
  


Takao sighed, running a hand through his hair again. It shown deep blue-black in the dim light of the study and Midorima had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

  
  


“Go ahead,” Takao said, smiling.

  
  


“W-what?” Midorima froze. Could Takao read his mind now or--

  
  


“You must _really_ want to do it,” Takao clarified.

  
  


Midorima blanched, then swallowed a knot in his throat. He stared at Takao, looking up at him with a smile that said he didn't expect Midorima to at all. “...Then, excuse me.”

  
  


Midorima reached out and Takao flinched. Midorima's hand paused mid-air.

  
  


“Don't worry, I just didn't think you'd actually do it. Here.” Takao reached out with his large hands and engulphed Midorima's, guiding it to the top of his head.

  
  


Stiffly, Midorima ran a finger through it. It was coarse, not as soft as it looked, but incredibly smooth. No wonder it shined how it did. Midorima, entranced, took more of Takao's hair in his hand, rubbing it lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

  
  


“It's...”

  
  


“You have really good shampoo.”

  
  


“I buy salon brand, when it's on sale.”

  
  


“Huh, I always just bought whatever was on display at the drug store.”

  
  


“I see.”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


There was an awkward silence for a moment.

  
  


“You could graduate to petting it. I'm always fine with some heavy petting.”

  
  


Midorima pulled his hand back like it was on fire. “I-I meant nothing like that. I merely wished to feel the texture.”

  
  


“Right. That's what I always say too.”

  
  


Midorima turned away from Takao and pulled out the chair at his desk.

  
  


“Look...I have a really weird request to ask.”

  
  


Midorima looked up, suspicious. Takao seemed to take that as cue to continue.

  
  


“Before I leave...will you drink my blood?”

  
  


Midorima's mouth would have hit the floor if his jaw were not hinged to his skull.

  
  


“It's just that it felt really good when I drank yours, and you seem to feel good too, so I wanted to feel what you felt.”

  
  


“No. I'm not going to drink your blood just so that you can...be erotically stimulated.”

  
  


“Please?” Takao looked up at him, eyes big. “It's not just because of that, I swear. Like, if I leave, and I I really do get in trouble, I think it would be good if someone knew about it. You know, taking advantage of the blood bond thing while also feeling really good. It's win-win.”

  
  


“For you.”

  
  


“You would be getting a free meal. One you don't have to rely on Kise for.”

  
  


“I don't rely on Kise.”

  
  


“Look, I'll suck you off or something after, I just wanna try it.”

  
  


Midorima paled and pushed up his glasses, his eyes subconsciously going to Takao's mouth. “No.”

  
  


“What if I promise to keep Kise out of your hair for a day. A whole day.”

  
  


“I thought you wanted to leave as soon as possible.”

  
  


“Like you said, Akashi won't be coming by tomorrow, and I really wanna try this.”

  
  


“You're as persistant and annoying as Kise.”

  
  


“Is that a yes?”

  
  


“...If you do run into trouble, and your emotions are alerted or registered strongly enough for me to feel them, what do you expect me to do?”

  
  


“Come save me, of course. You're super manly. I would swoon in your arms.”

  
  


Midorima scoffed. “I won't save you.”

  
  


“Fine. I won't get in trouble.”

  
  


“You can't guarantee that.”

  
  


“Then you better strengthen this blood bond before I go, don't you think?”

  
  


Midorima sighed. While they had been talking, his eyes had unconsciously wandered to Takao's neck. It was lean but muscular, with a pronounced adam's apple and a rounded collar bone that spoke of muscle below it. Midorima could practically hear the blood pulsing through--

  
  


“Fine. But only because you're persistant and I am tired of debating.”

  
  


“Sweet! I bet I taste really good. You won't regret it.”

  
  


“I highly doubt that,” Midorima mumbled, motioning for Takao to come over and standing up from his chair. He nodded curtly in the direction of the chair and Takao sat down like a child in an ice cream shop.

  
  


“This chair is kinda stiff, huh.”

  
  


“If you want me to do this, shut up.” Midorima placed both hands on either sides of the chair arms and bent over Takao.

  
  


“Hey, you're benefiting from this too, you—ow!”

  
  


Midorima, fed up, plunged his teeth perhaps a bit too quickly into Takao's neck. What happened next, his body had trouble registering.

  
  


The moment the first taste of blood slid down his throat, Midorima's neck and chest grew almost painfully hot. It was like no blood he'd ever tasted before. He sucked again, unaware of Takao's gasp as more hot fluid hit the back of his mouth. It was sweet yet sharp at the same time, almost refreshing. Midorima wanted more.

  
  


He was vaguely aware of a hand in his hair and another clutching at his shoulder as he sank his teeth in further, sucking harder. That time, he did hear Takao's moan and it seemed to travel through his body, into his blood. Midorima was sucking his moan and it passed down his body and directly to his loins. Midorima gripped Takao's hair, pulling his head over for better access. He pulled his teeth out and pierced the skin of another spot, closer to Takao's collar bone. Their bodies were shoved together, chest to chest as Midorima lapped at the first spring of blood then plunged in to devour Takao's neck. A spark in his abdomen drew momentary attention to their hips, grinding and rubbing against eachother. Takao let out a low moan and Midorima felt Takao's blood coursing in him like a molten river.

  
  


“--op.”

  
  


Midorima licked and licked, delighting in the savouring of Takao.

  
  


“Stop!”

  
  


Midorima opened his mouth wide to bite again when he was shoved away with unnatural strength. Midorima stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet. Takao sat before him in the chair, hand to his neck.

  
  


“Holy Bible, Batman, you were going to drain me dry. And trust me, I've never said that before,” Takao panted, his eyes glassy and shining at Midorima. Midorima stood stalk still, breathing heavily. He came to his senses slowly, unabashed horror setting in.

  
  


“I—I apologize. I didn't mean to. It was just so---”

  
  


“Good, I know.”

  
  


“I never lose control like that,” Midorima said more to himself than Takao.

  
  


“Don't worry. You're a vampire. It's c ool, you like to suck neck....”

 

Midorima was shocked at himself. At his lack of control the moment Takao's blood had hit his mouth. At the pure thirst of it.

 

“You know...” Takao said, his breathing slowing a bit. “ You like to suck necks. Necks are below heads. You know what else has a head?”

 

Midorima was apalled at how inappropriate the timing of Takao's remarks were. He wiped a dribble of blood from his mouth, disbelieving the individual sitting in front of him.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” a ghost head appeared between Midorima and Takao's faces. Takao yelled and Midorima jerked backwards. “but we have an urgent problem. Please bring your first aid box, Midorima-kun. Kise-kun needs it. He's in the entryway.” Kuroko disappeared immediately and Takao looked blinkingly at Midorima.

  
  


“Come on. It must be bad if Kuroko says it's urgent.”

  
  


Takao raced downstairs, Midorima behind him. They skidded to a halt in the entryway, to see Kuroko hovering over a collapsed, bloody mound of faux snake leather jacket and pleather pants stained red-brown. There was a dark trail from the door to the entryway where Kise lay. Kuroko, for all his steadfastness, looked worried, almost scared.

  
  


“Kise!” Takao hissed and ran over to Kise. Midorima approached and knelt down next to Takao, feeling Kise for a pulse before he remembered that Kise wouldn't have one.

  
  


“What have you gotten into this time,” Midorima grumbled, opening his medical bag. “Carefully, let's roll him onto his back so I can get a look at him. One...two....three....”

  
  


The rolled Kise over and Takao gasped. Blood was oozing from a giant gash along Kise's chest and there was smeared puddle of it underneath him. “What on earth did this,” Midorima ground his teeth, working quickly to remove the rest of Kise's shirt with scissors.

  
  


“Werewolf,” Kuroko whispered.

  
  


Midorima paused, staring at Kise's chest, then rationality kicked in. “Takao, get me clean dish towels from the kitchen and a pan of hot water. Quickly.”

  
  


Takao darted up and away.

  
  


“Kuroko,” Midorima addressed the hovering spectre, “While I know you are worried, your hovering isn't helping. I can't see Kise clearly through you.”

  
  


“Apologies,” Kuroko moved back and Midorima felt the temperature rise slightly in his vicinity.

  
  


Takao returned carrying an armful of towels and balancing a pot of hot water.

  
  


“His bleeding seems to have slowed, which is good. We need to get rid of this blood so I can see how deep the wound is.”

  
  


Midorima dipped a towel into the water and slowly started to wipe away at the blood. Takao followed and did the same. They worked at it, gently sponging and wiping off the blood. Kuroko hovered over them, reporting when Kise's eyes fluttered or limbs twitched.

  
  


A while later, the wound had been wiped clean and Midorima reported that it was a clean gash, no jagged edges and nothing torn or ruptured besides flesh and some muscle. He and Takao sanitized the wound, then Midorima set to stitching Kise up carefully.

  
  


Half and hour later, Midorima sat back, wiping at his brow out of habit. He looked over his work and, finding it satisfactory, bandaged Kise up. When it was finished, Takao stared at Kise then at Midorima. “Wow, I really wish I'd had you around before. I've got some nasty scars.”

  
  


“In a few days, with his fast healing, Kise will be able to model again as if nothing happened,” Midorima said, mildly proud.

  
  


“Can we take him to his room now,” Kuroko hovered.

  
  


“Don't worry, Kuroko. He's going to be fine.”

  
  


“I know, but he's already stained the rug and I need to clean the floor too.”

  
  


Takao chuckled and, with Midorima's help, hefted Kise up and carried him to his room. They laid the unconscious Kise on the bed and Takao covered him with a blanket. Kuroko floated in, declaring that he had mopped up the blood, so Midorima should get back to work, and that he would watch over Kise. He brought a good book.

  
  


Takao grinned and Midorima was all too happy to relinquish the responsibility, so he and Takao left Kise to Kuroko and headed back to the entryway, as if to inspect a crime scene. Kuroko, true to his word, had wiped up the puddle of blood, but rather hurriedly. There were still bits staining the moulding and some had seeped into the grooves of the wood flooring. Midorima sighed. They could leave it for the next day.

  
  


Takao whistled lowly. “That was some mauling. Unless Kise ran into a wild tiger, I'm gonna have to believe Kuroko on this one.”

  
  


“We'll see what happens when Kise wakes up. In the meantime, he'll need blood when he does.”

  
  


“Why not give him some of yours? It's delicious. Your blood type must be the big O, because it does things to a man, I swear.”

  
  


“Takao, this is not the time.”

  
  


“Okay, so are you gonna go drain fifty pigeons to get enough blood for him and us tonight, because remember, he was out getting our dinner.”

  
  


Midorima sighed and lifted up his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  
  


“I'll do it,” Takao piped up.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“I'll go get blood. I have no problem taking it from cats and dogs—bigger things. It'll be less work and, besides, there might be a werewolf out there. Can't have you risking that chest that I'm positive is chiseled under that tragic cardigan.”  
  
  
  


“Were you not just saying that Akashi may be looking for you? Seeing as how that seems so...dire...(Midorima didn't know how else to put it) perhaps you shouldn't be wandering around, gathering blood and leaving a trail that can be followed.”

  
  


“....That's actually a really good point, but Kise needs help and--”

  
  


“I and Kuroko will take care of Kise. While I am aware that you have become fast friends, Kise has been in my care for the last two years. He hardly took care of himself except because Kuroko demanded it. I can manage some blood for all of us.”

  
  


“Wow,” Takao stared admiringly. “That was really manly, Shin-chan.”

  
  


“Shuttup or I'll throw you in Kise's coffin.”

  
  


“I'd like to put my nail in your coffin.”

  
  


“I'm leaving. If Kise wakes up, see what information you can gather from him. If werewolves are attacking vampires now, it would behoove us to know.”

  
  


“About that,” Takao stopped Midorima as he was putting on his coat. A hand loosely gripped the sleeve and Midorima paused. Takao looked up at him, grinning, but there was a steeliness behind his eyes. “Be careful, yeah?”

  
  


“Of course,” Midorima clipped out before he could begin to blush. He put on his coat, pulling the sleeve from Takao's hand, grabbed two thermoses from the kitchen, tucked a book from the table into his coat, and headed out the front door into the snow.

  
  


“Kuroko,” He murmured as he closed the gate behind him and pulled out the book. Kuroko's form appeared, hovering in front of him. “I'm sorry to pull you from Kise's side, but I would like to talk to you while I walk.”

  
  


“It's fine. Takao can take better care of Kise than I can.” Kuroko, while usually deadpan and bluntly realistic about the state of his being, sounded tired as he said it.

  
  


“Why do you think Kise was attacked by a werewolf?” Midorima began walking and Kuroko floated alongside him.

  
  


“Not many things could injure a vampire like that. Plus, I've seen it before.”

  
  


“When?”

  
  


“A long time ago,” Kuroko paused, floating silently for a moment, “when my parents were killed.”

  
  


++++

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. Hit me up on tumblr: schumie or Twitter: schumers


	5. He's Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroko spills and Takao saves the day. Or something.

Midorima stared directly at the two eyes flashing yellow in front of him. “We desire no trouble,” Midorima stated, hands up.

  
  


“'We'? I don't see any of your vampy friends,” the man sneered. 

  
  


Midorima looked around him to find that Kuroko had disappeared. He had probably been pulled back to the library. Timely as usual.

  
  


“And as far as I'm concerned, you suck blood on our turf, you want trouble.”

  
  


Midorima wondered how the situation had come to be. Had some territory rules changed without him realizing it? Midorima didn't align himself with a territory vampire coven, he only stood under Akashi, so it was possible he had been out of the information circle. However, it was his understanding that the vampires of the area had an agreement with any werewolves. They lived in general tolerance, if not harmony. What had changed?

  
  


Midorima had been walking with Kuroko. It was around midnight at that point, and he had yet to find any people out on their own that he could easily pursuade to donate blood. Kuroko, after revealing the cause of his parents' death, had gone silent. Midorima didn't see the point in pushing the matter, so he'd left it alone, choosing instead to focus on finding a donator for the night. He would have to collect enough blood for Kise's recovery but also to tide over himself and Takao for the night. The idea of drinking Takao's blood again passed through his mind like a ghost and he felt chills down his spine, followed quickly by a strange warmth. Midorima brushed the thought from his head.

  
  


“Please don't walk through me, Kuroko. It's cold.”

  
  


“Sorry, you suddenly stopped. Are you okay?”

  
  


“Y-yes, of course. Just worried about Kise.”

  
  


“Now I know you're lying.”

  
  


Midorima was silent.

  
  


“I'm worried too,” Kuroko said quietly. Midorima's strong hearing had to strain to catch it. But Kuroko continuend. “I was there when my parents were attacked. In fact, I'm the one to blame.”

  
  


Midorima paused in his steps. He turned a disblieving look on Kuroko. Kuroko had never volunteered information about himself before. Looking at him now, Midorima wondered if the reason was because of this.

  
  


“It was a friend of mine. No, I suppose he was more than a friend. We grew up together. Went to school together and became fast friends. He made sure I was picked for sports teams, and I helped him in his studies. He was a bright, forceful person that acted like he didn't care but drew people in. He was like a black hole. So much energy and gravity, and when you were with him, you felt important. 

  
  


I was in secondaries when he was kicked out of his home. He was sick, he said, and his family couldn't care for him. I told him he could come to my house, stay with my family. He turned me down, saying he was fine and had someplace to stay. But over the next few weeks I realized his clothes hadn't been washed, and his hair was getting dirtier by the day. It was obvious he hadn't showered, and his face was looking thinner. I insisted he come stay with me. He said he couldn't, that it would be too dangerous.  
  
I insisted. Sometimes I can be stubborn, I suppose. I told him he could stay with me, or I would tell the headmaster that he had been kicked from his home, and he would have to stay in a children's home. So he came to stay with me. My parents were rarely around, and when they heard of his sportsmanship achievements, they thought he would be good for me to have around. Someone to balance out my love of books.

  
  


For a few weeks, I was the happiest I had ever been at home. My best friend lived with me. How could I not be happy? We ate together, studied together, went to school together, and played sports together. It was four weeks in when he declared that he had to go somewhere one night. He couldn't tell me where. He said it had to do with his family. I was annoyed but told him to be back in the morning, before my parents woke up.

  
  


The next morning, he was back, sleeping in the bed next to mine. He was still in his pants and socks and his boots by the door were muddy.

  
  


We lost five chickens to a predator that night. It was only later, when I was looking for a book in our dresser that I found his ripped up, bloody shirt.”

  
  


Midorima, realizing where the story was going, took in a sharp breath. Kuroko continued, talking steadily, as if it weren't his story.

  
  


“ I didn't say anything to him. I thought I would wait for him, if he had something to tell me. The next few weeks went by with no issues, but at the end of the month, he once again said he needed to leave for the night. 

  
  


That time, I followed him. What I saw, I didn't believe. I ran back to the house, searching for my friend, sure that my eyes had tricked me. That what I saw wasn't real and Aomine would be there, in our shared room, snoring and half-off the bed.

  
  


When he came back in the morning, he knew I'd seen him. I tried to hide it, to pretend like I had slept the night through soundly, but it was impossible. He knew right away.

  
  


He wanted to leave. I wouldn't let him.

  
  


I told him that I already knew and it would be stupid of him to wander around, looking for a place to stay, when he was perfectly fine in my house. He told me he was dangerous. That he had no control when he turned and he could destroy the house, or hurt me. I told him, if it came to it, I would be happy to restrain him myself, every full moon. He was reluctant but we both wanted him to stay, so he caved. He gave me a gun with silver bullets in it. He never told me where he got it. Only, if things ever got really bad, I had to promise to use it. I did, but it was an empty promise. Every full moon, I chained him in the basement of the house, and unchained him the following morning, healthy and human, if a bit sleep-deprived. We went to school during the day and played sports together as usual. My parents said he was like a second son. He was more important to me than a brother.

  
  


It was at least half a year before I made a mistake. I got too comfortable. I was too focused on who he was as a human. I didn't chain Aomine properly...

  
  


Kuroko paused, rubbing at his ghostly shoulder as if to work out a kink.

  
  


When it happened, I was too late. I arrived in the library too late. He was there, standing over my parents. I shot him with the gun he gave me.”  
  
  
  


A thought occurred to Midorima. It was a dark thought. “But...if you killed him, how did you die? After your parents died, you didn't...”

  
  


“Oh, I lived to be quite old. Passed away one night. I'm not sure why I look like like I'm a secondary student. Maybe, like how I haunt the library, I look this way because of regrets.” 

  
  


Midorima didn't know what to say. Kuroko was silent after that, but it was a busy silence. As if the air was crammed with words from inbetween sentences. As if silent phrases were bashing into eachother. Midorima, though kurt, was not entirely socially dense. He left Kuroko to his pondering, instead taking out the thermos from his jacket to check it. Kise had washed it. There was a bit of blood crusted on the lip of the top. Midorima shuddered.

  
  


“Well, what do you know? It's a vamp hunting in our territory,” a voice growled out.

  
  


Fantastic, Midorima thought. He held up his hands. “We desire no trouble.”

  
  


“'We'? I don't see any vampy friends,” the man laughed obnoxiously. He had silver hair that shone in the night, catching the light so that it appeared bluish one moment and reddish the next. He had eyes that seemed to gleam yellow. “Hey, Kagami. You know this guy?”

  
  


A tall, strongly built red-head with eyebrows that could shame Frida Kahlo stepped forward into the light, examining Midorima. Unlike the silver-haired man, 'Kagami' didn't seem to hold any hostile intentions, but he did seem itching for something.

  
  


“No, don't know him,” he said roughly.

  
  


“Can we beat the shit out of him then? He's on our turf.”

  
  


Kagami shrugged. “Sure, I guess. All I gotta do is report any vampires I know. You can do whatever you want. Don't kill him though, Haizaki. It would be a pain in the ass.” As he said it, the light caught on a long incisor. Kagami wasn't a werewolf, Midorima noted. So what was he doing with a small pack of them? Because it was, indeed, a pack. Out of the dark, several more werewolves had appeared, doing their best to loom menacingly behind the silver-haired one.

  
  


“You hear that, carrot head? I can beat the shit out of your skinny vamp ass, as long as I don't kill you. Good thing for me, I hear vamps are pretty hard to kill.”

  
  


“As I said before, I want no trouble. I didn't realize this was your hunting ground. I don't belong to a coven. I'm a relatively new to the--”

  
  


“Jeez, he's a talky bitch,” Haizaki interrupted.

  
  


“I get first bite,” a werewolf in the back piped up.

  
  


“Cram it. I found 'im. He's mine. You can have the leftovers,” Haizaki began to roll up his sleeves, showing off an impressive tattoo sleeve that Midorima hoped had been done with hygenic needles. Haizaki began to advance on Midorima.

  
  


Midorima had never been in a fight in his life. He had only the vaguest notion of how to punch someone, and super vampire strength or not, bopping a werewolf on the head probably wouldn't do much. Midorima felt himself stiffen. He was alone with a werewolf pack. He was royally--

  
  


“Shin-chan!” A high, nasally voice rang out. Midorima flinched and the sound of heavy footsteps approached him from behind. Takao pulled up next to him, panting. “Woah, it's mean of you to not invite me to the party!” Takao turned to Haizaki's group. “Hey, guys! Nice to meet you. I'm new in town.”

  
  


“We don't give a shit who you are. You're in our territory. Hey, Kagami, do you know this guy?”

  
  


Kagami stepped forward again and next to him, Midorima heard Takao whisper a small 'oh holy shit balls'.

  
  


“Takao?!”

  
  


“Damn it,” Haizaki cursed. Kagami knowing Takao had somehow thrown a wrench in his plans to beat the everloving life out of Midorima. Midorima wondered if that was what had happened to Kise. Had he been out alone when these werewolves approached and attacked him?

  
  


“How did you get here,” Midorima whispered sharply to Takao.

  
  


“Kuroko told me where you were. Just follow my lead,” Takao whispered to Midorima.

  
  


“Hey, Kagami. Long time, no see. We were just about to be on our way. Gotta get dinner and all.”

  
  


The one called Kagami frowned. “No way, Akashi's been looking for you. You're coming with me,” Kagami stepped forward, ignoring the growling Haizaki.

  
  


“See, here's the thing....” Takao grinned widely at Kagami. “No. I'm not. And I _really_ don't think a youngin' like you should try to make me.”

  
  


Suddenly, the air became immensely thick. It was as if summer had settled in around them in a matter of seconds and pressure and humidity were turning the air into soup....only that soup was filled with tiny bolts of lightning. Midorima felt his skin on the arm near Takao prickling and needling, as if he were being lightly shocked. It was hard to breathe.

  
  


“C'mon,” Takao whispered, grabbing Midorima's hand. It was difficult for Midorima to move. Everything seemed slower, heavier. “Let's get out of here,” then over his shoulder, Takao called, “bye Kagami, nice to see you're still alive. Peace out,” and suddenly the thickness in the air fell like a blanket, and Takao was running, Midorima in tow, werewolves and a single vampire coughing and gasping behind them.

  
  


They didn't stop running until they were at least a mile away from where they had left the pack and Kagami. Takao, to his credit, was barely out of breath. Much better than some of the people who had been on Midorima's previous basketball team. Still, there was no time to be thinking about such trivial things.

  
  


“What was... _that_?” Midorima turned to Takao.

  
  


“I dunno, do you think those are the guys who attached Kise? I didn't hear much but that silver-haired guy seemed like bad news.”

  
  


“That's not what I mean. The one with the eyebrows--”

  
  


“Kagami.”

  
  


“Kagami. He knew you.”

  
  


“Yeah, we go back a bit.”

  
  


Midorima didn't want to think about what that may imply. “You 'go back'”. It wasn't a question, but an insistance for more explanation.

  
  


“Yeah, I'm surprised he didn't know you, actually. Really surprised.”

  
  


“Why would I know a brute like that?”

  
  


“Well, I mean, you have the same maker.”

  
  


Midorima paused. If what Takao had said before was true, Kagami hadn't been a vampire for long, but he knew Takao, so that meant Kagami had been turned before Midorima, most likely. Midorima had never heard of Kagami. Akashi had made it seem like the first vampire he'd turned had been Midorima. When Takao showed up and said he was Akashi's first made, it had thrown Midorima for a loop, but wasn't unrealistic. But, exactly how many vampires had Akashi made? Midorima began to wonder if what Takao had said about Akashi wanted to create a generation of strong vampires was true...

  
  


“Anyway, let's get some blood for Kise, quick-like, and haul ass back to the house. We're gonna have to take a roundabout way though. I bet those dogs are already on our scent.”

  
  


That was true. They'd wasted time and would have to waste more going back. Kise needed blood. Midorima slightly admired Takao's levelheadedness in the situation.

  
  


They began walking, attempting to look casual while looking for dinner, but the air between them was heavy. What Takao had done—he had literally changed the atmosphere with his presence—was hard to ignore. And the fact that Kagami was another vampire made by Akashi, but didn't know Midorima...it was lucky, Midorima supposed, but disconcerting. Midorima thought about what Takao had said before about Akashi. Midorima still couldn't justify Takao's portrayal with the Akashi that he knew. Akashi was so--”

  
  


“Oh! Dinner at 3 o'clock. Follow my lead.”

  
  


Takao grabbed Midorima suddenly by the hand and Midorima felt a prickle, as if some of the shock from before had been left behind and was coursing through Takao's body. Takao led him over to two girls who were walking on the other side of the street, obviously dressed up for a night out. Midorima watched, frowning, as Takao smiled and flirted and invited the girls back to 'his place' which Midorima frowned at even harder. They didn't make it farther than two blocks before Takao was kissing the shorter girl, and pressing her up against a wall around a dark corner. Takao waved at Midorima, as if to encourage him to do the same with his donator. Midorima instead opted for the little hypnotism he was able to do and drank from the girl until he was sated, though it left a bad taste in his mouth. Kise was always the one to do this part, and Midorima didn't like knowing where the blood came from. He sliced a larger cut in the girls neck with his teeth and held the canteen up to it. When he'd filled the canteen half way, he licked the cut closed and handed the canteen to Takao, who did the same, his fun demeanor disappearing as he collected blood.

  
  


They left the two girls dazed and confused behind them and headed back home, taking as many side streets and roundabouts as they could at a fast pace. When they stepped through the door of their home, Kuroko appeared immediately out of the wall, scaring them both thoroughly.

  
  


“Oh, good. Takao got to you in time,” Kuroko stated. “Kise needs blood.”

  
  


“On it,” Kuroko flashed the canteen and made his way for Kise's room. Kuroko and Midorima watched him disappear around the corner.

  
  


“Kuroko--”

  
  


“Midorima-kun, what I told you before was for your ears only. If Kise knew about it--”

  
  


“I understand.” Midorima did. If Kise knew about Kuroko's story, especially how Kuroko was stuck haunting the library, eternally seventeen or so years old, Midorima knew Kise would be distraught, to put it lightly.

  
  


“Good, then, I'm going to go check on Kise and Takao.” Kuroko floated down the hallway and through a wall, disappearing from Midorima's sight.

  
  


Midorima sighed and headed to the foyer. He stopped in front of the chess board, a present from Akashi, and picked up one of the pawn pieces, turning it over in his hand. The pawns, though simple in design, were carved just as carefully and delicately as the others. Midorima thought about what Takao had said again. About Akashi creating an army...

  
  


“Kise looked better almost immediately after we poured the blood down his gullet,” Takao stepped into the room and moved next to Midorima, staring down at the chessboard. “Not to be the bearer of worse news but... Kagami saw me and said what he said, which means Akashi is definitely looking for me. Thankfully Kagami didn't know you, but it won't be hard to figure out who you are if he describes you to Akashi. I mean that in a flattering way. You're tall, lean, have beautiful eyes, and your...er, striking green hair, make you pretty obvious though. It might take a while, but Kagami will come here. I should leave before that.”

  
  


“We already spoke about this. I believe we can reason with Akashi.”

  
  


“'We'? Since when were we a 'we', Shin-chan? I didn't realize you liked me so much. That was fast,” Takao elbowed Midorima jokingly and a little too sharply.

  
  


“I'm merely suggesting that it will be helpful if I am here also. As I said, I believe Akashi has changed. He has always been reasonable and logical with me.”

  
  


“You think he's gonna be more polite with you around,” Takao raised an eyebrow. “You think quite a bit of yourself, Shin-chan.”

  
  


“Please stop calling me that, and, like I said, I have reason to think so. I believe we can talk this through and then you will not have to continue running from your own maker.”

  
  


“You do realize I could be putting you all in danger by being here right? He's like a spoiled child who would do who-knows-what to get his toy back. I should leave.” Takao made to turn around, but, before he knew what he was doing, Midorima's hand shot out and gripped Takao's wrist.

  
  


“Don't.”

  
  


Takao turned, wide-eyed to Midorima.

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“Because of what I just said and...if you're gone when Kise wakes up, I'll never hear the end of it. He'll think I made you leave.”

  
  


“Is that all?” Takao stared directly into Midorima's eyes.

  
  


“....yes,” Midorima muttered. It was hard to keep a blush from creeping up his neck when Takao looked at him so piercingly with his silver-blue eyes.

  
  


“Well...that's enough for now, I guess. I'll stay until Kise wakes up.” Takao turned and this time Midorima's hand fell away, letting him go.

  
  


“It's time for my beauty sleep. I shall retire to the couch,” Takao smiled and he looked tired. “Good night, Shin-chan.” Takao left the room, waving from the doorway as he did, “Dream of my dick. I'm cut, by the way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know where to find me. Please don't send bombs.


	6. Finishing Dead First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys all mediate on what to do, and a visitor arrives.

Midorima stared at the inside of the armoire, blinking, ears blushing red in the dark.

  
  


“I can't believe this,” he said both disbelieving and thoroughly embarrassed.

  
  


Below his waist, he was half-errect, his bulge pressing lightly into the door of the armoire.

  
  


“I cannot believe he is doing this in someone else's home,” Midorima said with disgust as a slight tingle ran down his lower spine and and numbed his legs.

  
  


“I'm going to kill that— _aa_.” A jolt of heat entered Midorima's pelvis and he collapsed against the door, his erection pressing hard into it.

  
  


“Takaaaaoooooo,” Midorima growled angrily.

  
  


  
  


“Good morning, Shin-chan, you're looking a bit constipated,” Takao said through his cherry, extra frosting Pop-tart.

  
  


“Takao, I need to have a word with you.”

  
  


“Hm?” Takao took another bite, some artificial fruit filling smearing on the side of his mouth.

  
  


“You cannot just...it's inconceivable that you would...Don't just think you can....”

  
  


Takao chewed his breakfast pastry patiently.

  
  


“What I mean is... _you can't just manually stimulate yourself in someone else's home!”_

  
  


“Oh my god. 'Manually stimulate.' Shin-chan, you are precious. Wait...” Takao stopped chewing and a piece of Pop-tart fell out of his mouth. “Shin-chan, did I _get you off?_ ”

  
  


Midorima's everything froze. He couldn't even stutter a reply, he just stared gapingly at Takao.

  
  


“Holy shit, I did. Damn it! I wish I had been there to seeeee iiiiitttt!” Takao whined loudly.

  
  


“The idea of you being anywhere near me when—when... is disgusting and crude!” Midorima argued.

  
  


“But I did get you off,” Takao argued back. 

  
  


There was no way Midorima would win this stupid, juvenile discussion, so he let it fall. Grudgingly.

  
  


“Any signs of that eyebrows idiot,” Midorima smoothly changed the topic.

  
  


“Kagami? Naw, not yet. But I've only been awake for an hour or so.”

  
  


“Only awake for an hour and you...” Midorima mumbled disgruntledly.

  
  


Unfortunately Takao seemed to here it. “Hey, I can't help it, it's a natural, physical need, even for vampires. If you'd like to join me next time though, I'd love to put a nail in your coffin.”

  
  


Midorima gaped for a full minute at Takao's stupid grin before he turned and walked away. “I'm making breakfast,” he announced roughly.

  
  


Midorima was making coffee when there was a small shriek followed by a 'morning, Kuroko!'. Midorima walked back into the living room.

  
  


“Good morning, Kuroko, would you like coffee?”

  
  


“Yes, please. Thank you.”

  
  


“Um, not to be inconsiderate or whatever but...can you drink coffee?” Takao butted in.

  
  


“No, but I can still smell it. I enjoy having a cup to smell.”

  
  


“Coffee smells way better than it tastes,” Takao agreed. “Oh, by the way, I was super surprised when you turned up and told me where Midorima was yesterday. You can leave the house? Aren't you, like, haunting it?”

  
  


“If it's from our library, I can haunt a book. I have less power outside the house, and someone has to take a book or object from the library outside with them. If they do, I can go too, for a limited amount of time. Eventually I get pulled back to the library. There's no warning, I just appear back in the library, but the time limit seems to be around two hours. It's less the further I go from the property.”

  
  


“Oh, ok. I guess that makes sense?” Takao rubbed at the back of his head and looked like he absolutely did not understand.

  
  


“Speaking of which,” Kuroko took a whiff of the coffee that Midorima set on the coffee table in front of where he was floating. “how did you two escape yesterday?”

  
  


Midorima explained the hostility of the werewolves and Takao butted in with a rather embellished account of his magnificent bravery in fending of the heathens and saving the gorgeous Midorima. At one point, Midorima left the room, but that only made Takao speak louder. Finally, making coffee-smelling look natural and not at all un-dead, Kuroko nodded.

  
  


“I think I understand what happened. Thank you. But, will you be safe here, Takao?”

  
  


Midorima's eyes moved to focus on the side of Takao's face. Takao's smile was a little too big.

  
  


“Shin-chan said that he would save me.”

  
  


“I didn't say that,” Midorima protested sharply. “I merely said that I believe Akashi can be logically reasoned with and that if we speak to him together, everything will become clear.”

  
  


“What I don't understand is why your maker is employing werewolves to help him,” Kuroko said blandly, but Midorima thought he heard a sharp edge in there somewhere.

  
  


“How is Kise doing this morning,” Takao chimed in. Takao must have heard it too.

  
  


“His color is much better. He could probably use a bit more blood, but his wounds have almost fully healed. He should wake up today or tomorrow.”

  
  


“If you don't mind, I'll check on him later,” Midorima took a sip of his coffee.”

  
  


“Thank you, it would be good to have your input.” 

  
  


“Our Shin-chan is so smart. I bet he could have been a doctor.”

  
  


“I was studying to be one. Before.” Midorima snapped.

  
  


“Before Akashi ruined your life,” Takao snapped back with a shallow smile.

  
  


Midorima, knowing Takao's history with Akashi, did not blame Takao for holding hatred towards Akashi, but Midorima did not think his own life had been ruined by Akashi. Maybe in a hundred years he may think differently, but for now he was...thankful to Akashi.

  
  


“Going back to the conversation, it is weird that Akashi would get the werewolves in with him. I'd think he thinks he's better than that. Werewovles are basically just people most of the time after all.”

  
  


“People like Haizaki are pitiable,” Kuroko said quietly “They can't do anything about their condition, so they become proud of it, but at the same time they have to hide it and they can really only be with their kind. And they have to suffer long lives with their situation. It's almost impossible for them to lead normal lives—just like vampires.” 

  
  


And ghosts, Midorima thought.

  
  


“Perhaps your maker understands that and is using that to his benefit? Though, as far as I know, werewolves and vampires have, historically, either avoided eachother or fought outright,” Kuroko stated. Midorima was inclined to believe him because Kuroko was more read on the matter of vampires and werewolves than any of them.

  
  


“Werewolves may be below Akashi, but Akashi might also just see them as more easy, dispensible pawns,” Takao said darkly.

  
  


“Werewolves are good trackers. He could be using them to find something,” Kuroko suggested.

  
  


It was suddenly silent, and Midorima felt his eyes move to Takao. Apparently Kuroko had looked at Takao too, because Takao shrank away from them.

  
  


“Kagami did say Akashi was looking for you...” Midorima said quietly.

  
  


“I've told you that from the beginning! That was the whole reason why I was running away and why you found me half-starved, but you didn't believe Akashi would be hunting me down,” Takao raised an eyebrow as if to, very blatantly, say 'I told you so'.

  
  


“Either way, the werewolves seem to be attacking unknown vampires before asking any questions. This is an issue,” Kuroko took a last, long pull of his coffee's steam before pushing it away, as if tired of it. “Normally, I'd say let the covens deal with the problem, but from what you've told me, it seems that the werewolves have a singular goal, which is to find Takao-kun... This is quite the conundrum.”

  
  


Takao reached out, surprising Midorima by taking Midorima's coffee mug out of his hands. Takao took a long sip. He looked slightly pale and Midorima realized at that angle that Takao actually had large circles under his eyes, making him look theatrically vampirical.

  
  


“Taka—“

  
  


“Mnnnrrghh,” Came a drowsy, weak voice from down the hall.

  
  


All three froze and listened. The sound came again.

  
  


“Kise,” Midorima stood up.

  
  


Kuroko was already floating down the hall, calling to Midorima over his semi-transparent shoulder. “Midorima-kun.”

  
  


Midorima glanced at Takao. Takao nodded at him in the direction of Kise's room and Midorima followed after Kuroko, Takao trailing behind.

  
  


Kise, did indeed look better. Perhaps it was just that all of the blood had been cleaned off him, but his color also looked less yellow-pale, and his eyes were clear and no longer blood-shot. He had gained consciousness long enough to sit up, tell Midorima that his chest hurt, and to smile adoringly at Kuroko. Midorima helped lay him down and he immediately went back to sleep.

  
  


“He could use another pint of blood,” Midorima decided.

  
  


“I'll go,” Takao announced.

  
  


“You will not. That eyebrows idiot and those werewolves are searching for you. If you leave this house and wander around, they might find you and attack you.”

  
  


“I could say the same for you. They know you now. And as you saw yesterday, I can hold my own against Kagami and those puppies. Better than you, no offense.”

  
  


Midorima couldn't argue against that.

  
  


“...We'll both go then.”

  
  


“You should stay here in case Kise wakes up again. You're the one with the medical skills. You can call me if anything happens. I'll be out and back with two pints before you know it.

  
  


Midorima didn't know why, but the thought of what Takao would do to get two pints of blood made his stomach curl in on itself. For some reason, he hated the idea of Takao going alone. Something in him told him it was foolish, but Kise needed blood, and if Takao could do what he did the day before, he really was more prepared to deal with other vampires and werewolves than Midorima was.

  
  


“There's something I need to show you,” Kuroko intercepted the conversation. “Midorima-kun, come with me. Takao-kun, can you watch Kise-kun?”

  
  


“Leave it to me!”

  
  


“Thank you. Then, Midorima-kun,” Kuroko floated out the door of the room. Midorima followed him down the hall and left and into the moderate-sized library. Kuroko floated over to a bookcase on the far wall and stopped in front of it. Midorima followed. Kuroko reached out and removed three heavy volumes with guilded lettering on their spines. He reached into the spot they left and when he removed his ghostly hand, it held an old revolver.

  
  


“My friend—Aomine—gave this to me... I believe it may be of some use, if only to threaten with,” Kuroko held out his hand with the gun laying on it.

  
  


Midorima blanched. “Is that—did you, with that...”

  
  


“Yes. I killed my best friend with this. I hid it and never wanted anyone to find it, but I think the occasion calls for it. There are four silver bullets left in the chambers.” When Midorima didn't take the gun, Kuroko picked up his right hand and laid the gun in it. “I trust you with it. But, you must promise me something,” Kuroko looked down at the gun and then up at Midorima. Midorima had never seen an expression on Kuroko's face like that. “You must promise me that you won't use it unless you absolutely need to,” Kuroko said softly. There was a small catch in his voice and Midorima held the cold gun in his hand, feeling the heavy weight of it.

  
  


“I promise.”

  
  


“Kurokocchi?”

  
  


Midorima and Kuroko's heads both turned. Kise was awake.

  
  


Midorima and Kuroko hurried to Kise's room, Kuroko with the distinct advantage of being able to float through walls. Kise was already whining happily at Kuroko when Midorima walked through the door.

  
  


“--it was awful, you know. Those guys must have been 195cm, at least! All of them! Just as tall as that weird vampire that works at the snack shop! And super strong. It hurt so much, Kurokocchi. But I knew I had to survive because you were waiting for me and--”

  
  


“Midorima-kun, can you check his wound and his head while you're at it? He's speaking nonsense,” Kuroko said blandly. Midorima was glad that Kuroko was back to normal bored politeness. It had been unsettling, seeing him emotional.

  
  


Midorima checked Kise over and declared him nearly-healed and prescribed some more bedrest.

  
  


“Oh, yeah, Takaocchi said he was going to get me some blood, too. He's a great guy, Midorimacchi,” Kise winked at Midorima.

  
  


Takao. Takao had left. Takao had left without Midorima and without telling anyone besides Kise. Midorima cursed under his breath at his luck with second-living idiots.

  
  


Just then, the doorbell rang.

  
  


“Woah, Takaocchi works fast,” Kise grinned.

  
  


Midorima muttered and told Kuroko to stay with Kise.

  
  


Midorima had had far enough excitement for the evening and just wanted to settle down with a glass of blood and call it a night.

  
  


Midorima opened the door, annoyed.

  
  


“You shouldn't have left like--”

  
  
Midorima stopped, his breath catching in his throat. Before him, looking radiant and regal as always, hair blood-red in the night, was Akashi.

  
  


“Good evening, Shintarou. I believe you have something of mine.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've basically thrown out my story outline, so enjoy me not knowing what the fuck I'm doing. Catch me at schumie.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no excuse.
> 
> I'm breaking this into parts because, if I did it all in one go, I'd never finish it. Yell at me. schumie.tumblr.com


End file.
